


love, eventually

by mochee



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Non-Linear Narrative, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, a little bit of plot and politics, literally just domestic bliss and tropes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:46:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26135209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mochee/pseuds/mochee
Summary: "How do you even know you’re in love?” Katara asks.“Youknow,” Sokka exaggerates, wiggling his fingers out at her. “It’s like your heart is exploding. Like it’s goingsparky sparky, boom boom.”“That is the dumbest description of an expedited heartbeat."—Or:Katara's a pre-med biology student at Ba Sing Se University. She also may or may not be extremely attracted to (re: hopelessly in love with) her brother's old roommate, Zuko. Between tea time at the Jasmine Dragon and late night car rides home, soft smiles and laughter spill into something beautiful between them. Maybe Sokka's right.Sparky sparky, boom boomand all that.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 85
Kudos: 212





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> non-linear narrative on the beautiful relationship that is zuko + katara :')

“Ah— _fuck_.”

Katara’s in her last year of university and volunteers at Ba Sing Se Hospital’s clinical research program, and she’s—well, she’s _late_. 

She stuffs a granola bar in her mouth, winding through the streets with the brisk cool air down her spine, cursing herself for not getting her bike into the shop sooner, and now suffering the consequences of trying to eat and run at the same time.

She turns a corner sharply, the route to the hospital like a GPS projected to the forefront of her mind, and she knows in a second she’ll pass by the Jasmine Dragon to her right.

For a brief second, Katara wonders if Zuko is working and if it’d be faster to ask him to drive her to the hospital, but then shakes her head at the thought. It would take too long to start up the car and get in and then… Rolling her sleeves, she hoists her bag higher up her shoulders and picks up the pace.

And like she had summoned him right out of a lamp, Zuko materializes in his car beside her, honking. His car slows to a roll, and she peers at him in her periphery. “Uh—hey, Katara. Need a ride?”

“I don’t have time!” she shouts as she presses forward. 

He frowns. “Are you sure you don’t want a ride? It’d be faster.”

Katara hesitates for half a breath, but Zuko’s already leaning over the passenger door to let her in. 

“Come on,” he says, as she dives in, slamming the door behind her. He looks over and eyes her scrubs. “The hospital?”

“Yes!” she pants, finally taking a deep breath and then a swig of her water bottle. “You’re a lifesaver.” 

Zuko shrugs, but the car speeds up, and Katara watches the buildings whip by in a flash. “You caught me at the right time. I was about to run to the store for Uncle.” He gives her a side glance. “Is your bike still at the shop?”

A huff escapes her lips. Crossing her arms, she sinks into her seat. “Yeah, it’s still at the shop. I should have taken it in as soon as it broke down, but I _didn’t_ because I didn’t want to spend money. And usually I don’t mind walking, I just normally wake up on time, and today, I—” she lets out a groan as she drops her head into her hands. “I mean this entire week has been a mess of a schedule, and it’s only _Tuesday_. I can’t wait to get my bike back.”

Zuko chuckles under his breath, and Katara looks up to shoot him a glare. 

“You can always ask me if you need a ride,” he offers, and he’s offered before, and like always, she turns him down.

“I can’t ask you to do that. You already have so much on your plate,” she waves off.

“I don’t mind.”

“I couldn’t!” she protests. “I would feel terrible asking you to do that.”

Zuko pulls up alongside the curb of the hospital and unlocks the car door. He tilts his head, surveying her briefly. “Well, text me if you end up needing a ride. I’m sure I can swing by.”

She waves her hand and opens the door, dropping her feet to the ground. Her hand perches on the corner, edging it closed before peering back inside. “No worries, I can walk. I’ll swing by the Jasmine Dragon to say hi though. Will you be there?”

“Sure,” he says, smiling.

“Okay,” Katara grins. “See you, Zuko!”

She thinks this is where it all started, that smile, his kindness, his intentional surety to be available for whenever and wherever she needed him.

Maybe.

Or maybe it started in Katara’s dorm room, freshman year, the stilted air of awkward introductions and shifty eyes, murmured _hellos_ wilting under their breaths.

* * *

Their friendship doesn’t blossom in Katara’s dorm room, but it’s where they meet. 

“Katara!” her brother bursts through the room, carrying a large box in his hands. “Why do you have so much _stuff?”_

“I have just the right amount of _stuff_ , thank you,” she scoffs, crossing her arms. She nudges her head towards her side of the room. “You can drop the box on my bed.”

Sokka groans, dropping the cardboard on her empty mattress and then sprawling alongside it, heaving. “What’s even _in_ here? Why is it so heavy?”

“My books!” she sniffs, whirling in his direction with her hands on her hips. “I had to bring them with me! And those are my absolute favorite.”

“Can’t you just buy your books at the co-op like a normal person?”

“Tui and La, Sokka—” Katara groans, marching next to the box and tearing it open, pulling out books to wave in his face. The books in her hands are heavy but delicate, years-old history elaborately sewn into its sutures and sketches. “They’re books I’ve collected over the years, not just some textbook I have to buy for class. I have a first edition of _The Tales of the South Pole_ and even a signed copy of _Sparrowkeet Sing._ I can’t just throw them away!”

“Okay, sheesh. I was just asking! I didn’t even know you had a signed copy of _Sparrowkeet Sing!_ Wait, can I borrow it?”

Katara gently places the books down onto her desk, careful to avoid any scratches. “Depends. The last time I let you borrow a book, you got tomato sauce all over it. Are you committed to getting me a signed copy of the novel if you destroy it?”

“...You know what, I’m gonna just borrow a copy from the library.”

“Good idea.” She leans against her desk, staring at her brother’s sprawled figure as he sends off a text on his phone. With only a year apart between them, they’d always been close, annoyingly so sometimes. And for that, she edges in her gratitude. “Thanks, by the way. For carrying my stuff up here.”

He waves his hand, sitting back up and ruffling her head. Katara smacks his hand away, carefully smoothing out the strands of her dark brown tresses. “Yeah, yeah, don’t get all mushy on me. Of course I’m gonna help my baby sister move into her first dorm. Well, I got help anyway since Dad couldn’t get away from his chieftain duties—”

A knock at the door pulls the siblings away from their conversation, and all Katara can see is another large cardboard mass in the doorway with a pair of pale hands at the sides and legs sticking out underneath. She quirks a brow at Sokka and turns back to who must be Sokka’s “help.”

The boy peeps his head from behind the box shyly, and mutters, “Hello, uh—Zuko here.”

“Zuko, buddy! Just come in and drop the box—”

“ _Don’t_ just drop the box. Set it down gently,” Katara interrupts, glaring at her brother. “There could be fragile things in there!” 

Sokka peers at the box in Zuko’s hands, the word ‘ _Clothes_ ’ hurriedly scribbled in black ink on the side. A sardonic grin dances on his lips. “Are your clothes made out of glass?”

Katara flushes. “Maybe they are!”

Zuko stiffly sets the box on the ground, and she’s thankful that he doesn’t listen to her brother and drop the damn thing. When he rises back up, Katara sees him fully for the first time, and she can’t help but scan his features briefly, eyes trailing over his tousled dark hair, smooth ivory skin, intense golden eyes and—she pauses, lingering. A mottled scar. 

And somehow, he looks beautiful, nonetheless. 

His gaze meets hers, and they stare at each other for what feels like an enchanting moment. She feels she should be ashamed, maybe, of lingering a bit too long, but he really is beautiful, and she’s not quite in a position to deny it.

She tears her eyes away and raises an expected brow at Sokka. “So, are you going to introduce us?”

“Oh! Right, right.” Sokka gestures towards Zuko with an elaborate movement of his hand, almost bowing. “Katara, this is Zuko—my roommate. He’s a second-year engineering major like myself, but ChemE. Oh, maybe he could help you with some chem classes! Zuko—this is my annoying baby sister. She’s a bio major, pre-med, wants to be a doctor, yaddi-yaddi-ya—the works. She’s incredibly boring, but we are super close, so hurt her, and I will kill you.”

Katara snorts and rolls her eyes, but she sees Zuko faintly sputter and flush. He brings his hand to the back of his neck, rubbing it nervously, “I wasn’t—why would you— _what_?”

Sokka eyes him suspiciously. “I’m just saying! I have to stake my ground as her big brother! Defend my territory to any encroaching male! I don’t care if you’re my friend, Zuko. I need to make clear to _everyone_ that _no one_ touches my little sister.”

Katara shoves Sokka by the shoulder, and he falls wayside to the mattress with a wail. “As if I’m ‘territory’ for you to defend. Watch yourself, _Big Brother,_ before I drag you into Lake Laogai for your toxic masculinity.” She flashes Zuko a big grin. “Hi, Zuko. It’s nice to meet you. Thanks for carrying my stuff up here.”

The tips of his ears go red, but he smiles back. “Uh—hi… Katara. And—no problem.”

In the background, she can hear her brother stammer, “ _Toxic masculinity? What?”_

But all she can see is Zuko’s ember gaze and soft smile, the florid color painted across his pale skin, and really, this is definitely where it all started. 

* * *

Sokka and Suki are at the Jasmine Dragon when Katara arrives after her clinical program, shoving the door open with her shoulder. She catches Zuko’s eyes at the counter, and he gives her a shy smile before turning his attention to the customer he’s chatting to. 

The tea shop is bustling even in the late afternoon, each table filled to the brim with fellow university students or older ladies tuning in for the latest gossip. Uncle Iroh’s shop is cozily decorated, with plush forest-green cushion booths, bright filtered sunlight, and pale oaken tables, so it’s no surprise that it’s popular regardless of the hour. She’s been frequenting his shop since her freshman year at Ba Sing Se University, and it’s still one of her favorite places of all time, often settling into a nook with her textbooks spread out in disarray.

Katara makes her way to her brother and his girlfriend, dropping her bag in the corner of the booth before sliding in next to it. 

“Heard you hitched a ride to the hospital with Zuko this morning,” Suki says by way of a greeting.

“Well, hello to you too,” Katara says, huffing a sigh as she drops her head into her hands. “I can't wait until my bike is fixed. I don’t usually sleep past my alarm, but I stayed up late last night to study for my midterm exam on Friday. It was a good thing Zuko was on his way to the store, or I would have been so screwed.”

Suki raises a brow. “ _Sure_ , Zuko was on his way to the store,” she drawls slowly, rounding at her words. “Just like he’s working his very expected shift behind the counter.”

Katara narrows her eyes suspiciously, peeking from between her fingertips. “Yes… What are you insinuating?”

“Nothing,” she says innocently, looking back down at her tea cup. 

“Hey.”

Before Katara gets a chance to interrogate her friend further, a familiar voice rings to her side, and she looks up to meet Zuko’s gaze. She can’t help the smile that makes her way to her lips, and she watches as he places a newly hot kettle on the table alongside three ceramic teacups.

“Uh—here’s a freshly brewed pot of chamomile tea, courtesy of Uncle,” he says. “To—um, help you guys with relaxing.”

“My favorite,” Katara gushes. “I always love to drink chamomile after a shift.” From the corner of her eyes, she can see Suki and Sokka raise their brows at each other and deliberately chooses to ignore whatever itchy feeling that rises from within her. “Thanks, Zuko.”

Zuko sheepishly rubs the back of his head before clearing his throat. “Thank Uncle. I told him you were at the hospital this morning, so he just knew.”

“Well, then thank Uncle Iroh for me when you head back there. And thanks again for this morning. You’re seriously a lifesaver. I don’t think I would have made it if you didn’t happen to be there.”

“Anytime, Katara. I already told you I’m happy to drive you to the hospital.”

“That’s okay. I appreciate the offer. I’m going to pick up my bike this weekend, so I shouldn’t have to worry about it anymore.”

He shrugs. “Whatever works best for you. Are you staying late to study today? I’ll take you home from the tea shop at least.”

“Yeah, I might stay until closing. Is that okay with you?”

“Of course,” he says, smiling. “Need a sweatshirt in case it gets cold? I think I have one in the back room.”

She beams. “That would be amazing.”

“Cool—I’ll go grab it really quickly.” Zuko turns around and heads behind the counter. 

Katara turns back to the teapot in front of her, and she slowly pours out two new cups of chamomile tea for her brother and his girlfriend, pushing them gently in front of the two before pouring her own cup.

She takes a small sip, but can feel their heavy stares burning into her.

She tries to ignore it, really she does, but—

“What?” she bites, frowning. “You guys don’t like chamomile?”

Sokka covers his eyes. “My eyes burn. I need to go wash them out.”

“What on earth are you _talking_ about?”

“Suki! Soap!”

“Tui and La. Stop being so dramatic. If you guys don’t like the tea, don’t drink it,” Katara says, shoving him by the shoulder. She rolls her eyes and takes another sip of her tea. 

Sokka turns to his girlfriend, jaw slacked open in astonishment. “Suki! A little help here? How can someone so smart be _this_ dense?”

Suki pats Sokka’s hand sympathetically before turning to Katara. She tilts her head up, licking her lips. “How do I put this into words that you understand…” She sighs, then looks at her friend pointedly from across the table. “When are you and Zuko going to start dating?”

Katara spits her tea out. “ _Excuse me?_ ”

“Ugh, don’t scar my ears. I don’t want to think about my baby sister dating my best friend.”

“Then close your ears,” Suki says, nudging her boyfriend. Her fingers drum across the table, as she turns to Katara with a sigh. “Come on, this can’t be a surprise. You two have been dancing around each other for months. No. _Years_. We’re tired of watching. Isn’t it about time you do something about it?”

Katara opens her mouth, then closes it. A hot burn simmers through her spine, and while she can openly admit that she had _once_ had a small crush on her friend, she can’t help but deny it to her brother and her best friend. Mainly because— “Zuko does not like me like that,” she hisses.

Suki rolls her eyes. “And fish don’t swim. Katara, he drove you to the hospital this morning—”

“A coincidence! He was on his way to the store, and any one of you guys would have offered to drive me if you saw me running like a mad woman—”

“Honey, I don’t know how to tell you this, but the store is a block away. He could have walked. You were late last week too—he must have known you were going to run by and wanted to make sure you’d get to the hospital on time.”

“You don’t know that. That’s purely an assumption.”

“Okay, fine. Then let’s talk about Zuko’s shift.”

“What about his shift?”

Sokka looks at her and points, “Do you know what day it is?”

“Tuesday?” She pauses, running through the days of the week in her mind. Then— “Wait, aren’t Tuesdays Toph’s shift?”

“Exactly! He texted her asking to switch shifts. You must have said something this morning.”

She flushes. “I just asked if he’d be here.”

“And he made it happen! To see you, probably.”

“This is all a coincidence!” 

“Tell that to my eyes who just witnessed you guys flirt back and forth for a solid ten minutes,” Sokka blanches.

She glares at her brother from across the table. “Why are we even talking about this? You’re the one always going _on and on_ with your toxic, patriarchal mindset about being my defender—whatever _that_ means. I know you’ve been going around to the entire male population of MechEs, threatening them from dating me. Don’t deny it!” 

“Okay, that was _three years ago!_ I’ve been way better about it after the first time you exploded at me, and after Suki kicked my butt. I’m a changed man,” he huffs. Sokka leans in to peer closely at her, crossing his arms. “Look, I don’t like the idea of you dating because you’re my baby sister, but if it had to be anyone, then Zuko’s a good guy. But can you guys like, get it together already? If I have to sit here and watch you make googly eyes at each other again, I’m gonna barf.”

“It’s not like I’d ask for your permission,” she sniffs.

“I’m just saying! Zuko is way better than your last boyfriend.”

“ _Anyone_ is better than my last boyfriend.”

Her last boyfriend was a guy named Jet, who seemed to be common enemy number one among all her friends. Her relationship with him had ended in an absolute mess, and _that_ was an understatement. 

Jet had somehow swept her off her feet her freshman year of university, and while they had dated for only a few months, her rose-tinted glasses fell off quickly after their first date. The older boy was charismatic and could charm the pants off of quite literally anyone, including the three other people he had been seeing in tandem. Plus, she found out he tended to bully the elderly, and that was simply a no-go in her book.

When Katara found out, she’d wiped her hands clean after a fairly good slap across the face. 

“Are we talking about Jet?”

Katara almost shrieks at the sound of Zuko’s voice but holds it in internally as she turns her head, fingers clenching around her teacup. Zuko is standing there with a curious look on his face, his dark red sweatshirt bundled in his hands. He raises a brow as their eyes meet.

“Zuko!” Her voice comes out shrilly and so very unlike her. She can see Suki stifle a laugh out of the corner of her eye, and kicks her under the table.

Suki kicks back, but directs a smirk towards Zuko. “Yeah, he was the biggest asshole, wasn’t he? We were just talking about Katara’s love life—or lack thereof.”

Zuko absent-mindedly hands Katara his sweatshirt and nods carefully, folding his arms across his chest. There’s a wary look in his eyes as he purses his lips. “He’s… not my favorite person in the world. Even before you guys started dating—Jet was always giving me and my Uncle shit. That just escalated when I found out he… cheated on— Uh, you know. You. Sorry, Katara.”

“Don’t be sorry. He was the worst. I don’t know what I even saw in him,” she mutters. The decision to date Jet had been and still is one of her biggest lapses of judgment. She folds the sweatshirt in her hand and looks back up at him. “Thanks for the sweatshirt.”

She feels Suki kick her under the table, and refrains from glaring at her. She is definitely going to have a bruise on her shin when she gets home, and she knows exactly who to blame.

“Yeah, no problem at all. I know you always get cold in here.” He tilts his head, surveying her. “Are you looking to get back into dating again?”

“ _No_. I mean, I’m not—well, it’s… uh… complicated? Short answer, no. Long answer, probably… not?” Katara laughs awkwardly, and refrains the urge to bury her head into her hands. 

She is going to kill Sokka and Suki.

Zuko furrows his brow, eyes shifting back and forth as he gauges her expression, but he doesn’t comment on her wavering voice. “Okay,” he says slowly. “I need to get back to work, so I’ll leave you guys to it.” He turns to Sokka and Suki. “Say bye when y’all head out. Otherwise, I’ll see you at movie night?”

Sokka grins, giving him two thumbs up. “Movie night! And it’s my turn, so I don’t wanna hear any complaints when we watch _Attack of the Giant Unagi!_ ”

Zuko grimaces. “Again? Aren’t you tired of that movie?”

“Oh, my dear, poor, sweet, naive Zuko. You can _never_ be tired of the Giant Unagi.”

He merely shakes his head before turning around with a wave. 

As soon as Zuko is out of earshot, Suki turns towards Katara and crosses her arms. “Sorry, you were saying?”

Katara glares at her. “It’s just a coincidence! Zuko’s one of my closest friends.”

“Well, he didn’t offer _me_ a sweatshirt.”

“Or me,” Sokka pipes.

“I’m not talking about this anymore.” She stubbornly turns back to her tea.

“I mean, do you _like_ him? You haven’t really denied it,” Suki points out.

It’s not that she hasn’t thought about this. She _has._

Anyone could see that Zuko was both attractive and kind-hearted. And there had been a moment she had considered whether it was worth pursuing him romantically, but… He was one of her best friends. Did she want to ruin one of the best relationships she had ever had?

So she had locked the thought in the back of her brain, tucked it away to hopefully never resurface again. It wasn’t worth losing him over something as small as a crush.

She hadn’t expected, of course, for her brother and her best friend to dig it up and ask her to face it in full force. 

Katara flushes. “I don’t want to talk about this with my brother!”

“Think of me as your best friend’s boyfriend,” Sokka says, leaning back with a smirk. 

“It’s one and the same!” She pauses, hesitant, cradling her palms around the tea cup. A tongue swipes across her bottom lip. “I… Even if I _did_ , Zuko’s one of my best friends. I don’t want to do anything that could jeopardize our relationship. I don’t even know what love _is_. I’ve never had a serious relationship before, and I wouldn’t pursue Zuko with half-assed feelings.”

“Oh, honey,” Suki says, sighing, gaze softening. She leans across the table and grabs Katara’s hand, squeezing it. “Zuko’s head over heels for you. Anyone can see that.”

“Yeah, even Toph can see that, and she’s blind.”

“I doubt that. He barely reacted when we started talking about my love life, or lack thereof. I mean, how do you even know you’re in love?”

“You _know_ ,” Sokka exaggerates, wiggling his fingers out at her. “It’s like your heart is exploding. Like it’s going _sparky sparky, boom boom_.”

“That is the dumbest description of an expedited heartbeat,” Katara responds as she crosses her arms and rolls her eyes. She leans back against the diner booth, feeling the cushion press against her spine. “What, is that how your heart goes when Suki walks into the room?”

“Every time,” he swoons. He drops his arm around Suki’s shoulders and slobbers a kiss on her cheek. Suki only laughs. “Right, babe? And it’s not dumb. I’m sorry I’m not a health professional like _someone_ , but the side effects of love still remain. What, you’ve never felt your heart go—”

“If you say _sparky sparky, boom boom_ , I’m gonna kill you—”

“ _Sparky sparky, boom boom_?” he grins snarkily, wiggling his fingers back in her face.

She shoves his hands aside, frowning. “Ugh. How are we even related?”

“ _Like I was saying_ —I don’t like the idea of encouraging my baby sister to date, but we’re tired of watching you two do the romance tango. Maybe you just needed a little wake-up call from your big brother.”

Suki offers her a smile. “Maybe just sit on it. If you realize you do love him, it’s worth telling him. Even if he didn’t love you, he’d do anything to keep you in his life. You’re one of his best friends.”

“Yeah,” she says faintly. “Maybe.”

* * *

A fresh hot cup of tea settles in front of her a few hours later, when her focus has honed in to the depths of her notes. She startles at the tea cup, but Katara looks up and brightens as Zuko settles himself in front of her. 

“Hey,” he smiles.

“Hi,” she grins. She pulls the warm ceramic cup towards her and takes a sip. “Thanks for the tea.”

“Any time.” He tilts his head and looks at her notes. “Biochem?”

“Genetics,” she corrects, scrunching her face together. “My mid-term is on Friday, and I have an exam for my histology class next week. How are your classes going?”

Zuko fiddles with the empty teapot from earlier on in the day as he speaks. “They’re okay. It’s mainly just my process design class that’s challenging. We have a review with my instructor and TA next week though, so hopefully we’re on the right track. The rest of my classes are mainly electives, so they’re not too terrible.” 

“That’s good.” She tilts her head as she surveys him. Zuko’s in his last semester of class, graduating one semester later than Sokka and Suki. Thinking about his future absence creates a knot in her chest, and she frowns. “I’m gonna miss having you around.”

Zuko laughs, and the sound warms her soul, more so than the hot cup of tea. She hides the flush of her cheeks by taking another sip. “I’ll still be here in Ba Sing Se. My new job is just on the outskirts of the city. Besides, how could I leave you?” he teases with a warm smile. 

“It’ll be a whole semester without you serving me tea! I’m gonna be miserable.”

“Oh, is that all I’m worth?”

“And your back-up sweatshirts.”

“Well, you can always come study at my place, and I’ll feed you tea there.”

Katara considers this momentarily. “Okay,” she concedes. “I can live with that. As long as you promise it’s just as good and as comfortable as the Jasmine Dragon. And there’s food.”

“Now you’re getting greedy,” he says with a grin, fingers drumming against her textbook. “Ready to get out of here? Tea shop’s closed and empty, if you hadn’t noticed.”

Katara blinks and looks around. Between Sokka and Suki’s conversation earlier and her increased focus on her books, she hadn’t even noticed the dim lights and emptied booths and chairs. Now all the stray chairs have been stacked on the oaken tables, the tiled floor mopped and clean. “When on earth did you close up?”

“While you were busy reading. I don’t know if you noticed anything after Sokka and Suki left.”

”I was distracted!” She closes her book and stacks her notes together. 

Zuko moves to pick up her bag, opening it for her to drop her materials in. Without a word, he slips the bag over his shoulder before grabbing the remaining tea cups and settling them in the wash bin by the counter. She watches him move seamlessly through the room without a word before he’s nodding his head towards the door. “Ready?”

She nods. “I can carry my bag,” she says suddenly as she eyes the blue fabric slung across his back. 

“The walk to the car is less than a minute. I’ll survive.”

Katara blinks, opening her mouth to protest, but he’s already motioning her through the doors and locking the building behind him. 

He carefully positions her bag in the backseat before strapping himself in and turning on the ignition, backing his sedan out of the parking lot. 

Now settled in his car, her conversation with Sokka and Suki pops back up in her mind. She fiddles with her fingers and wonders if she should broach the topic or at least confirm some of their… assumptions. Casually, she says, “I just realized—you don’t normally work on Tuesdays.”

Zuko blinks, but doesn’t seem caught off guard as she had imagined. “Yeah, I usually don’t. My professor canceled class this morning. I’m trying to save up to move apartments after my sublease is over, so I texted Toph to take her shift since I had the time.”

So Suki and Sokka were wrong, she notes internally. She nods. “Makes sense. Thanks again for the ride earlier today. I was so lucky that you were on your way to the store. There was no way I was going to make it to the hospital on foot in time.”

Zuko laughs. “Seriously, that was pure luck. Uncle is trying this new tea blend recipe, but it requires some ingredients on the outskirts of Ba Sing Se. When I saw you run by, I figured I could give you a lift.”

Katara laughs along nervously but feels her heart constrict at the thought that her brother and best friend were wrong yet again. She’s not sure why she feels this way, but she hates it. She _knew_ it was all a coincidence. She can’t believe she let Sokka and Suki almost convince her otherwise. _Stop it,_ she chastises herself. Aloud, she says, “I know—I can’t wait until my bike is ready to pick up from the shop.”

He makes a turn onto her street, and she recognizes the familiar buildings slowly pass by. At a red light, he turns to her curiously, “I uh—about your relationship with Jet. You’re—okay, right?”

Katara snorts, surprised by the question. She almost laughs but chokes it back. “Yes, absolutely. It’s been _three_ years. I’m completely over him. I’m positive I was over him within the first month. Why?”

Zuko hesitates, and she watches as he searches for the right words with a purse of his lips. “You just seemed… unsure. Earlier.” He turns to face her briefly while the light is still red. “You know you can tell me anything, right? If you’re still upset with him, or if you’re… looking to start dating again? Not that you _have_ to tell me, I just—want to make sure you know you _can_. If you wanted to. If you… needed someone to listen.”

She fiddles with the edge of his sweatshirt. “I mean, I’m upset that I got played by a tool like Jet. But I’ve moved on years ago. I don’t really think about him anymore.”

He looks surprised, but the light turns green, and he presses down on the pedal. “It’s rare for you to talk about him at all, so when you guys brought it up, I figured…”

She rolls her eyes. “Sokka and Suki are just being dumb. They have this grand idea that I need a boyfriend, but I obviously don’t have time for a relationship right now.”

“Right,” he says softly. He opens his mouth as if to say something before shaking his head and licking his lips. Slowly, the car rolls up to her apartment, and Zuko parks the car. He leans back against his seat and grabs her bag from the back. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your door.”

“You don’t have to—” 

He shuts his door before she can finish her sentence and walks to the other side. The door pries open. He cocks a brow. “You were saying?”

Katara opens her mouth and then shuts it before climbing out.

They walk together to her door in silence, climbing up two flights of stairs before she’s unlocking her apartment. He hands her the bag, and she takes it into her arms. She feels like she should offer back his sweatshirt, but she doesn’t want to.

They’re staring at each other for what feels like almost a moment too long, his eyes capturing her like a whirlpool of molten gold, dark, intense, _enchanting._ She almost hates that he does this to her, even if unconsciously. She mostly hates herself for being so easily caught up in it.

“Night, Katara,” he finally murmurs as he shoves his hands into his pockets and starts to turn around. 

Her eyes stay trained on his back as his body hits the top of the stairs, and then something within her bursts, “Zuko?”

He turns, lifting a brow.

“Thanks for—everything.” She flushes. “And, for what it’s worth… you can talk to me about anything too. If you want.”

Zuko smiles a brilliant, shy smile, and she feels her heart swoon just a bit.

“I already do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for age reference, zuko + sokka + suki are all one year older than katara in this au.
> 
> i love all modern aus, even if they're the same tropes. this is one of them! i hope you enjoy more modern fluff because this is literally all that this is. i write to appease my own cravings.
> 
> i have most of this finished (it was supposed to be a one-shot that got away from me), so i should hopefully update once a week (fingers crossed!) i imagine this will have about 5-6 chapters, but only time will tell.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for all the kudos + comments! i truly truly appreciate it <3

The conversation with Sokka and Suki stays with Katara for days, eventually hanging over her head like a dark cloud the night before her exam. She’s not sure why it bothers her so much. A part of her can easily admit that being in a relationship with Zuko would be… nice. Really nice. But the stronger half of her—the more realistic half—knows without a doubt that there’s no way Zuko is interested in a romantic relationship with her.

And that if she ever, ever brought it up—she thinks she’d ruin a friendship that truly means the world to her. A friendship that has had its own fragile difficulties, of shared heartbreaks and tears, of kindness and everything in between.

She would never forgive herself if their friendship shattered due to her own selfish reasons.

Plus… she can get over a small crush, right? If she could even _call_ it that.

It’s not like… she _loves_ Zuko.

“Ugh, I hate them so much. This is all their fault,” she mutters as she scribbles two devils being eaten by a fish in the corner of her molecule genetics notes. For extra measure, she throws in Sokka’s wolf tail and Suki’s top-knot, before stabbing them repeatedly with her pencil.

“Geez, what did the devils do to piss you off so much?”

Katara jumps and refrains from shrieking in the library’s echo chamber, pencil dropping from her fingers. She looks behind her shoulder to see Zuko peering curiously at her notes. “Tui and La, Zuko. Maybe give me a warning next time?”

Zuko smiles. “Sorry. Couldn’t help myself. Can I bribe you for your forgiveness?” Two cups of steaming coffee are in his hand, and he slides them onto the table, pushing one cup in her direction before bending down to grab her pencil off the ground. He hands it over before sliding into the empty seat next to her.

“Oh gods, coffee? I guess I _have_ to forgive you,” she hums as she distractedly pulls the cup closer to her and takes a long whiff. “How did you know I needed this right now?”

He chuckles, his cheeks pink under the dim yellow light. “Because you’re always at the library the night before your exam, and you always look like you’re about to fall into a deep slumber by midnight.”

She takes a long gulp of coffee before contentedly settling it back down, warm between her palms. “Thank you. I feel like there may have been an insult in there somewhere, but everything you stated is true.” She tilts her head, watching him unpack his belongings and spreading it out in front of him. “ _You_ don’t have an exam though. What are you doing here?”

“I have an essay I need to get a head start on,” he says casually as he pulls out his laptop.

“When is this so-called essay due?” she asks, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Soon,” he replies innocently. He slides his laptop on the table and grins at her.

“You’re so weird. Get some sleep like a normal person,” she mutters under her breath, but she can’t help the fluttering in her chest at the thought of him stopping by the library just to give her coffee and keep her company. “You don’t have to stay up with me.”

“Study for your exam,” is all he replies as he starts typing.

They sit like that for a while in comfortable silence, Katara bent over her notes and textbooks and flash cards, and Zuko perched at the edge of his seat, fingers dancing across his keyboard as he occasionally peers at a book to his side. The library is full, as always, students collectively burning through the midnight oil for their mid-term exams, but she finds comfort in the fact that she’s able to have this quiet familiarity between them.

Two hours pass, and Katara feels that jitteriness she gets after she’s been in the same headspace for too long. Her pen starts tapping against her notes rhythmically, and eventually, she turns her gaze to Zuko, pressing her chin into the palm of her hand as she watches him type. Some time in those two hours, Zuko’s brought out his glasses, the dark matte rims perched carefully at the edge of his nose. She knows he only brings them out when he’s up extremely late, but a very small part of her wonders if she can get him to wear them more often. Zuko in glasses has always been one of her favorites, and the sight of it makes her feel fuzzy.

She clears her throat, moving her pen to tap his forearm. “What’s your essay about?”

Zuko looks up at the sound of her voice before stretching his limbs and shifting his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose. She does _not_ look when his shirt shifts up, exposing the slim space of pale skin at the jut of his hip. She doesn’t.

“It’s—uh, actually, it’s for a class on the history of the Fire Nation,” he says, leaning back in his seat as he stares at the laptop screen.

She blinks at him in surprise. “Oh, I didn’t know you were taking a history class.”

“It’s one of my electives,” he explains, rubbing the top of his head. “I chose it because…” There’s a furrow near his brow as he searches for the right words to say before he slowly adds, “You know how the Fire Nation had a… harmful history.”

Katara nods, but they both are acutely aware of the weight of his words. It’s a well-known fact that thousands of years ago, the Fire Nation had started a world war that lasted exactly a hundred years because they believed they should control the rest of the world. The stories that had been passed down to her generation had taught them the world had since moved forward after the then Fire Lord had been defeated, but not after years of healing.

She had grown up divulging in every novel from the perspective of her tribe, even now sacredly keeping a first edition copy of written stories. This, mainly because of the revered storytelling that her grandmother had spun, like haunted poetry spilling between her teeth.

It’s a painful part of their history, but Katara believes the nations are doing their best to continue balancing the peace and harmony that had once been restored.

It’s rare for any of her friends to discuss it though. The war is deep in the past, and usually only history buffs like Suki and Aang have ever kept her engaged enough to know the other sides of the war.

Still, she curiously listens to Zuko with her chin cradled in her palm, knows he rarely shares his vulnerabilities with her and will take every crumb she can get.

“For a while, growing up, I’d get this guilty feeling in my gut for what my nation did to the other nations. I know it’s—it’s way, way in the past, and the world is… _better_ , now, but of course it was still wrong. It took me a while to really confront it, and I'm trying to do my best to learn my own history. And, hopefully, be better than my ancestors. Hence… my class. And my essay.”

Katara leans over and grabs his hand, squeezing. “Oh, Zuko. You’re not your nation though. Or your ancestors for that matter. You’re you. Their mistakes don’t define you.”

“I know, but it’s still part of my history, you know? I think they tried to teach us back in primary school that the Fire Nation was bad, but not _that_ bad. And then I got older and realized—” he sighs, his nose scrunching in distaste, hand dragging down his face. “I mean, my father believes in all that propaganda about the Fire Nation being the best and is _still_ on the wrong side of history, so guess that speaks for itself.”

“But you’re on the _right_ side. Even though you’ve had your father breathing down your neck, you still chose the right side. I think that counts for something.” Her free hand moves to drift across his cheek, brushing the edge of his scar and curving with the dips and rivets in his skin. Zuko closes his eyes, sucking in a breath. Even though he’s let her touch his scar before, it’s an intimacy she treads carefully. “Your father was wrong, Zuko. _Is_ wrong. His actions could never define you. You’re a good person. One of the best I know.”

He opens his eyes, and his gaze is so intense that she can’t help but be entranced. “Thanks, Katara. You’re one of the best people I know, too.”

Her heart flutters.

Katara laughs a bit nervously, rapidly pulling her hand away and tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “And don’t you forget it,” she jokes in an attempt to distract herself from the tension vibrating through her body.

Zuko gives her a lop-sided grin. “As if you’d let me.” He clears his throat, looking down at his laptop. “Sorry, by the way. That was… a long-winded explanation that you probably didn’t need to hear at two in the morning.”

“No, no! Don’t be sorry,” Katara says, rushing her words as she squeezes his shoulder. “I think it’s great what you’re doing, really. It makes me want to revisit some of my old Water Tribe books—I was engrossed in their stories as a kid, but it’s been a while since I’ve read them or even made the effort to learn different perspectives outside of my own people. My favorite book growing up was _The Tales of the South Pole—_ I even have a first-edition copy. It's a collection of short stories from the Southern Water Tribe, both nonfiction and fiction, but there are some true accounts during the war. It’s a great book, if you ever find time to read it.”

“Yeah, maybe I will,” he says thoughtfully. He shifts in his seat, readjusting his glasses as he looks at the clock. “It’s getting late though. Are you tired?”

She opens her mouth to say _no_ , but her body betrays her, a wide yawn escaping her lips, her body heaving with the deep inhale. Her eyes blink blearily. “Um—”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he chuckles, then tilts his head. “Did you walk to the library?” When Katara nods, he tells her, “I’ll drive you home.”

She doesn’t have the energy to protest, mainly because she really doesn’t want to walk to her apartment this late at night after lengthy hours of studying. She also knows deep down, it’s futile. Zuko never lets her walk home late at night if he can help it.

“Okay. Let me just pack my things.”

The silence sits comfortably between them on the car ride home. And when he gets to her apartment, he walks her to the door like always, bidding her a soft goodnight and a good luck on her exam.

Katara wonders if in a parallel universe, this odd yet purely sweet routine of theirs could be between two lovers instead of simply friends.

It’s a thought that keeps her warm all night.

* * *

She wishes she could say they were friends right off the bat, but she’d be lying.

There had been… _misunderstandings_.

When she was a freshman on campus, finding her place was challenging but not an obstacle she couldn’t overcome. Katara’s an overachiever, so it didn’t really matter what Ba Sing Se University threw her way—she was going to tackle it head first like everything else in her life.

Starting, of course, with the difficulty of finding friends.

Making friends in a new city is hard. Even she has to admit this. She makes colleagues and study buddies in all of her classes (because let’s face it, the weed out gen chem and gen biology classes are always increasingly more challenging than they should be, and no one survives without study groups), but there’s always this lingering question in the air of how far she can push the friendship. Is she allowed to text people to hang out when it has absolutely nothing to do with class? It doesn’t help that no one texts _her_ unless it’s related to class.

Sometimes they _say_ they will, but...

So yeah, making friends—hard.

Maybe this is why she frequents Sokka’s apartment more than she would have liked, and maybe this is where the misunderstanding begins.

The door whips open after she knocks, and Zuko stands in the frame, slight irritation dancing across his features, gold eyes sharp and harrowing. “I said to stop bothering me—” He cuts himself off as soon as he realizes who’s standing before him, and then the furrow in his forehead deepens. “Oh, it’s you.”

Katara’s eyes widen, a hot flash of anger coursing through her body. “Well. Hello to you too,” she grits, debating whether she should turn on her heels and head back down the stairs. “But since I’m _bothering_ you, maybe not.”

Usually when Katara visits her older brother, Zuko’s either not home or is locked away in his room. Their first meeting, ever so brief, had been simply that. A meeting, with a simple exchange of soft smiles. And while he had been courteous to her during her visits, they had hardly made the effort to be each other’s friends.

He was still just her older brother’s roommate, and she was sure he still saw her as his roommate’s baby sister.

She thinks a part of her would like to be his friend.

But she also thinks it’s because she simply wants _friends._

Zuko sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That’s not what I meant, Katara.”

“Do you greet everyone like that?”

“Of course not!” he snaps. He flushes, recoiling at his own words before licking his lips. “I—Sorry. It’s been a bad day. I didn’t mean to yell at you.” He lets out a sigh and clears his throat, peering apologetically at her. “Um… Are you looking for Sokka? He’s not home right now—I think he’s at intramural soccer practice.”

“Oh,” she says with a purse of her lips, fiddling with her phone. “Okay. Well—I’ll get out of your hair then.”

He runs his hand along his jaw as his features soften. “You can come in if you’d like. I’m sure he’ll be home soon.”

“You sure I won’t be a bother?” she asks, sarcasm dripping from her voice as she lifts a brow.

His cheeks grow bright red. “Like I said, that’s not what I meant. It’s… um—complicated. I thought you were someone else.”

“Who?” she asks, knowing she really shouldn’t pry but curiosity getting the best of her.

His gaze hardens briefly, and he almost answers her—she can see the irritated flare in his eyes. But then he recollects himself and takes a step back, widening the door with a nod inward. “Just come on in before I change my mind.”

Katara steps inside, familiar with the layout of their apartment, a small living room connected to their kitchen and a hallway down the side leading to their bedrooms. Zuko gestures to their well-worn couch, and flits around the room calmly as she makes herself comfortable. Then he settles a glass of water for her at the coffee table without a word and before she can express her gratitude or even apologize for prying, moves to lock himself in his room. She doesn’t see him for the rest of the day, and she wonders if she’s offended him in the few words they’ve exchanged since their first meeting.

Later, she tells her brother, “I don’t think your roommate likes me very much.”

Sokka laughs loudly, pausing mid-bite of his pan-fried noodles. He’d come home about half an hour after she’d been reading on his couch, and the two siblings had then trekked to the local noodle shop for dinner.

He leans back in his chair, dropping the chopsticks back on his plate, sputtering, _“Zuko?”_ His hand waves back and forth in front of his face as he shakes his head. “Nah, no way. He’s just moody and shy. Maybe not the most personable guy, but he’s not the sort to dislike people unless you really piss him off. I know who pisses him off, and it’s definitely not _you_. Why do you think that?”

Katara frowns and elaborates on the incident to her brother between bites of her dinner, explaining Zuko’s initial annoyed expression. She tells him about his greeting, his apologies, and still, his choice to lock himself away from her without another word.

Sokka takes it in stride, seemingly aware of his roommate’s day-to-day and not really surprised. “Yeah, that sounds like Zuko. He had a run-in with his sister this morning, and she’s the very definition of complicated. It was probably just the aftermath of her wrath. Nothing against you, Sis. He’s got his own stuff to worry about—not everything is about you, you know.”

She thinks back to Zuko’s demeanor, the apologetic sorrow in his features and abashed pink of his cheeks, and quietly says, “Oh.” A part of her wants to retort to Sokka’s last statement, but she knows he’s right. Not everything is about her.

Maybe she had judged him too fast.

“He’s a good guy. You think I’d be his roommate if he wasn’t? Just give him a chance.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

Sokka hollers, eyes bulging with a self-satisfied glimmer. “Did you say I’m _right?_ Can you repeat that for me? I need to savor this moment. Wait, actually—let me get my phone out so I can record it.”

“Shut up,” she scowls, shoving his shoulder.

The next time she visits Sokka’s apartment, Zuko brews her a cup of jasmine tea and settles it in front of her. She looks up at him in surprise, and he shifts his feet nervously, hand drifting behind his neck. The tips of his ears grow bright red as he averts his gaze. “Uh—I just wanted to say sorry. For the way I acted last time. I didn’t mean to be so harsh.”

She looks at the tea and then graciously takes it into her hands. The gesture, though small, fills her with an unwavering warmth. “Oh… Um. Thank you. It’s not a big deal though. You didn’t have to make me tea.” Katara takes a deep whiff and peers back up at him. “Jasmine?”

“Yeah,” he says, eyes glinting eagerly in the dim light of the living room. “I work at my Uncle’s tea shop, so it’s some of the most premium tea leaves you’ll find. Definitely better than BU’s Tea House.”

She smirks as she takes a slow sip. “You sound like a walking advertisement.”

His flush deepens. “Uh—I guess I am one,” he laughs sheepishly, tucking his hands into his pockets. “Only because it’s true. If you come visit, you’ll see.”

“This is good,” she says after taking another sip. “Maybe I will. Thanks, Zuko.”

* * *

Their friendship really took a turn somewhere at the end of her first semester, after she had started frequently visiting the Jasmine Dragon for hopes of tea and quiet study hours.

On a Friday night before her finals, she’s at her usual spot, curled in the corner of a booth, nose buried in her gen chem textbook when the sound of a ceramic tea cup brings her back to reality. She looks up in surprise at the sight of Zuko standing by the end of the table, tea tray flat at his side.

“What are you doing?” The words escape her lips before she can stop them.

Though Zuko had been the one to encourage her visits to his uncle’s tea shop, and had been rather welcoming to her when she had come by, he rarely found time to chat. Their friendship—if she could even call it that—was usually a simple back and forth of casual greetings and nothing more. Seeing him before her in an attempt at conversation is unusual, and she isn't sure how to smooth over her surprise.

“Checking in on you. You’ve been here since three. It’s almost eight. And... we’re about to close,” he points out. “I uh—poured you a cup of tea in case you needed it. It’s chamomile, which is good for relaxing—”

“I’m not stressed! Isn’t chamomile tea supposed to be for sleeping?” she frets, eyeing the tea cup warily. “I can’t sleep. I need to study for finals! Why would you give me chamomile tea?”

“I was just trying to help!” he snaps, an obvious tick in his features as he takes a few steps back as if she had admonished him. Maybe she had. “Chamomile mostly helps with anxiety, and it has mild effects to aid sleep—mainly to help you calm down and feel relaxed. I usually drink some before a big presentation or before an exam so that I can focus better. Anyway—don’t drink it if you don’t want to. It just seemed…” he carefully eyes the papers strewn across pale oak, her open notebooks lined across the table, “...like it would be helpful.”

Katara watches him storm off and then blinks furiously, internally chastising herself for snapping at him for no reason. She bites her lip before calling out, “Wait, Zuko!”

He turns to her with a raised brow, irritation somewhere in that damn gaze she both loves and sort of hates. “Yeah?”

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m just stressed. Um… thanks. For the tea.”

Zuko’s features soften. “Don’t worry about it.”

The next night, she orders a chamomile tea, and Zuko looks up at her in surprise. “Uh… you liked it?”

She shifts her bag nervously, brushing her scarf to the side. “Um… yeah. It was really helpful, actually. I’m sorry for snapping at you yesterday.”

He shrugs as he turns to make her a cup of tea, “It happens. Final exams suck.”

“How are yours going?”

Zuko laughs, and she thinks it might be the first time she’s ever heard him laugh. She likes the sound of it, wants to lock it in a jar and save it for later. “Like I said, finals suck. Doesn’t get better as a second year. I’m afraid it actually gets worse.” He carefully places the cup of tea on a plate and pushes it towards her. “On the house.”

Her eyes widen. “Wait, Zuko, no. I can pay for a cup of tea—”

He wipes his hands down his apron before folding his arms across his chest. “You’re like our star customer. Take the free tea. You can pay for a cup next time.” His head lifts when the bell at the door rings, and he gives her a gentle smile. “Talk to you later, Katara.”

“Yeah, you too,” she says faintly as she takes her cup of tea and settles in her usual spot.

Later is at the end of the day when the tea shop is about to close. Zuko swings by her table again with a cup of water. She looks up and realizes the lights have slowly dimmed, the shop emptied, chairs stacked. “Tui and La—I didn’t realize it’s so late. I didn’t mean to inconvenience you.”

Zuko shrugs. “No big deal. You looked so focused, I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Thanks.”

“Are you studying all weekend?”

Katara groans as she watches him settle himself in across the booth. “My chem final is 8AM on Monday, so I don’t really have a choice. Are you here all weekend?”

“I’m off for the next few days. My last final is on Tuesday, so I’ll be hunkered down until then.” He surveys her carefully, eyeing the box of crackers beside her. “Have you eaten at all today?”

She follows his gaze and snorts. “Yeah, I had a healthy dose of saltine crackers for lunch and dinner.”

Zuko frowns, giving her words some thought before he gets up from the table. “Okay, well—wrap up your studies, and I’ll take you to get some real food. I’m almost done closing up anyway.”

Her toes curl, and she can feel a flush run from the tip of her ears all the way down to her feet. “No, that’s okay! I can grab food on my way home.”

He peers outside at the dark, empty parking lot save for his car in the far corner. The shadows of the trees waver with the brisk wind. “How do you get here anyway?”

“Uh...” It’s not like she has a bike or a car—though she is planning on purchasing the former once she gets a part-time job. And the bus is a bit out of the way from the tea shop. “I… walk?”

He looks at her in surprise. “The Jasmine Dragon is kind of a far walk from the dorms. Have you been walking here every day?”

“It’s fine! It’s a great workout. The area is super safe.”

Concern crosses his face. “Yeah, I don’t know about that. And it’s like twenty degrees out. Does Sokka know you’ve been walking home from the tea shop at night?”

A spark of anger flashes in her chest. “I'm from the South Pole—this weather hardly affects me. And Sokka doesn’t control what I get to do,” she says hotly.

His eyes widen. “No, uh—that’s not what I meant, Katara. I just think he’d feel the same—that the area is kind of far from the dorms, and he could swing by to pick you up and drop you off when I’m not working. It’s dangerous walking home at night, even if you’re used to this kind of weather. It’s not like we’re on the edge of campus. I mean, if you lived around the corner, then I wouldn’t…”

Katara deflates when she notices how much he’s struggling finding the right words. “Sorry. All my life, people have always acted as if Sokka needed to give me permission to do something, even Sokka himself. I mean… he’s a little better now, but he’s still learning. Even though, funny enough, _I’m_ the one who’s spent my whole life taking care of _him_. If anything, I should be the one giving him permission.”

He snorts. “Imagine Sokka thinking he can control you. Sokka can barely take care of himself.”

“ _Exactly!_ ”

Zuko smiles at her before leaning over and tapping her notebooks. “Okay, but seriously. Pack your stuff, and I’ll take you to get dinner. And drive you home. There’s no way I could let you walk in the winter for thirty minutes when I have a car.”

“Zuko—”

“Just do me the favor, Katara.”

He turns without letting her protest further, and she begrudgingly packs her bag. A part of her knows that walking from the Jasmine Dragon back to the dorms is a ridiculous idea, and she should be grateful that she doesn’t have to make the hike in the cold. The other part of her feels guilty for having her brother’s roommate drive her back.

And then a very, _very_ slim part of her wonders if this is a date, of sorts. Her heart stutters at the thought, so she shoves _that_ out of her mind before she subconsciously makes this moment more awkward than it needs to be.

Katara follows Zuko out to his car, an old black, scratched-up sedan with frosted windows from the weather. She slides into the passenger seat and drops her bag at her feet before buckling herself in. She watches him turn on the ignition, and then they’re pulling out of the parking lot.

He turns to her briefly. “There’s a late night diner around here. You okay with that?”

She nods. “I’m not picky. And um—thanks. For making sure I eat… and for taking me home.”

“Thank you for letting me,” he says wryly, shooting her a smile. “Honestly, I was afraid you’d walk off the moment I turned my back.”

She gasps in horror. “I would never! That’s terrible. And I hate worrying other people.”

He shrugs. “It’s not like I could force you to do anything you didn’t want to. And… something tells me you would. If you really wanted to.”

“Okay… maybe I might have, out of pure spite, but only if I was _really_ upset. And only to show you that I’m clearly capable of taking care of myself.”

Zuko chuckles, glancing over at her from the driver’s seat. “I’m more than positive you can take care of yourself—you definitely don’t need to prove that to me. But there are people who are… not quite as nice. And maybe it’s a selfish thought, but I would feel extremely guilty letting you trek home in this weather.”

When he says that, she thinks he’s referring to something more intimate than just a random stranger stalking her at night. There’s a sadness to his voice that she can’t quite discern, but he doesn’t elaborate, and she doesn’t press him to.

Instead, she just jabs,

“I mean, again—I’m from the _South Pole._ It’s not even snowing.”

Amusement glitters in his features. “Still.”

They drive the short distance before Zuko pulls up in front of a 50s diner with red booths and bar stools, linoleum tiles, and a bustling open kitchen in the back. Before she can get out of the car, he’s already on the other side, opening her door, and she can’t help but think that he is incredibly polite and well-mannered, despite some of her earlier impressions. They eventually settle into a booth beside a large window, and it’s like they’ve taken their earlier positions at the Jasmine Dragon and simply replicated it at a diner with food.

It’s the first time she’s been alone with Zuko outside of their small conversations at the Jasmine Dragon, and she honestly… has no idea what to say. She doesn’t even know anything about him aside from the fact that he’s a ChemE major and her brother’s roommate. And of course, that he works at his uncle’s tea shop.

“So—how did you…” she clears her throat after they’ve ordered, “I guess I’ve never asked how you and my brother… met.”

“Oh—he didn’t tell you?” Zuko looks at her in surprise. He tilts his head up as he pieces together his memories, hands fiddling with the condiments on the table. “It’s nothing special, to be honest. We took a physics class together freshman year, and Sokka is—you know, super outgoing and extroverted. He started all the study groups, and I went because physics is a pain in the ass no matter how good you’re at it. I guess the struggle led us to become friends. We’re a bit different, but we somehow get along pretty well. And we both needed a roommate sophomore year, so now here we are.”

Katara snorts. “Sounds like Sokka—always the life of the party.”

He quirks a grin at her, leaning forward on the table with his arms crossed. “I mean, you’re not too different.”

She frowns distastefully. “Oh, gods. Don’t say that. I hope we are different.”

Zuko laughs. “I just meant—you’re pretty outgoing too. You’re easy to talk to, at least. Just like him.”

“Oh,” she says, flushing. “Thanks. I think.”

“It’s a compliment,” he says gently. He brushes his hand against the back of his neck as he turns his gaze outside for a split second. Then his eyes are back on her, entrancing. “Me, on the other hand… I’m not so great with new people, so. Yeah. It’s a compliment.”

Katara blinks at him in bewilderment. Somehow, she hadn’t expected self-deprecation from Zuko. She’s technically known him for a few months now, and while he’s not exactly an over-eager beaver (in her brother’s exact words, “ _moody and shy_ ”), she hardly thinks he’s antisocial now that they’ve had conversations. _He_ was the one who had initiated the conversation with her these past few days.

She thinks back to all the times she’d visited their apartment and how often he had locked himself away in his room, and she wonders if she’d always just mistyped him from the very start.

Her gaze moves to his scar just briefly, and she stills before shifting her sight.

Well—it’s not like she knows Zuko like the back of her hand. He’s obviously been through a lot, but she’s not going to pry.

“I think you’re easy to talk to, too, now that we’re… talking,” she says softly after a moment. “And you’re really nice.”

The tips of his ears grow bright red, and he ducks his head. “Uh—thanks,” he murmurs.

He’s saved from saying much else when the waitress comes back with their food, two steaming burgers slid in front of them with a basket of fries to share. Katara stares at the food and truly can’t get the word ‘ _date’_ out of her mind. She licks her lips and smiles at him.

Zuko returns it easily.

As they eat, the two chatter away on Katara’s first year at university and the experiences she’s had (the answer: not many, aside from joining a bunch of pre-med student orgs. She honestly needs to get out more), the things she likes to do (“I _love_ reading and collecting antique books”), Zuko’s passion for chemical engineering and what he does when he’s not working at the Jasmine Dragon (“Um, actually I practice kendo on the side. For… fun.” “Oh, really? I’d love to see you practice.” “Oh… yeah, sure. I’d love to have you there.”) The conversation is light and flows effortlessly between them, and she’s surprised by how much she’s enjoying herself.

When Zuko drops her off after dinner, she keeps her hand on the doorframe for a split second, peering inside the car.

“Um—I had fun. This was a nice break from studying. And I liked hanging out with you.”

A blush dances across Zuko’s ivory skin, caught under the moonlight even in the dark. “M-me too,” he stammers.

Katara grins toothily, hand lifting in a wave. “See you around?”

Something shifts in the air, she thinks, in that moment. Whatever their relationship was prior to that day, had definitely turned a new leaf and created a beautiful friendship in its stead.

* * *

Katara always celebrates the end of an exam with a night in, snuggled in her most comfortable clothes, a whole tray of homemade brownies to soothe her after-exam anxieties, and something light-hearted and comedic to watch on her laptop. If she has exams on the weekdays, she’ll wait until the end of the week, and she’ll never let anyone drag her out to a bar or whatever club Suki’s got up her sleeve. (Even though Suki works full-time now, she somehow still makes time to go out on the weekends. Katara still doesn’t get it.)

This is, honestly, most Fridays for her given how often she has exams.

She doesn’t care. She hates going out to the clubs anyway.

 _Who_ she ends up celebrating with always changes. Most days, she’s by herself, but she’s shared her post-exam rituals with all of her friends before.

This is all Katara can think about after she turns in her genetics exam—she truly can’t wait to take a nice shower and just snuggle in bed. She doesn’t even care that it's only three-thirty in the afternoon.

She treks across the hilly campus, wondering whether she needs to stop by the convenience store to pick up any ingredients, when she spots a familiar dark-haired figure sprawled out on the university lawn with a book held high above him.

A smirk makes its way to her lips, and she can’t help the urge to sneak up to surprise him—as payback for scaring her yesterday in the library.

Careful to make little sound, she quietly moves through the grass before popping her head above his, “Whatcha reading?”

Zuko flinches, dropping the book on his face before he scrambles to sit up on his legs. He scowls up at her, rubbing his forehead. “Agni, Katara. _Seriously?_ ”

She smiles innocently. “Payback for yesterday.”

“I got you coffee, and you forgave me!”

“Fine, I’ll bribe you for your forgiveness. I’m going to stay in tonight and indulge in some brownies. Maybe watch a rom-com. Wanna join? I’ll make a batch of spicy ones just for you.”

He purses his lips in deep thought, as if he’s seriously considering her offer and possibly rejecting it. But she knows Zuko like the back of her hand, and she is aware he doesn’t work Friday shifts anymore at the Jasmine Dragon, and he equally hates going out to clubs with their friends. He lets out a dramatic sigh as he leans back on his hands. “Fine. I guess I can keep you company.”

“You say that as if you don’t already enjoy my company,” she teases. He flushes but doesn’t deny it, only gestures for her to sit down next to him, so she does. She peers around him, eyes honing in on the novel behind his back. “So—what were you reading?”

Zuko stiffens. “Um—just a book for class. It’s boring, really. How was your exam?”

Katara narrows her eyes. She’s always been able to tell when he’s hiding something from her, but she’ll let it slide. For a moment. She shrugs, dropping her bag into the grass. “I think it went okay. I took almost the full hour because I double checked all my answers, and I always second guess myself. But what can you do, right? I can only wait for my grade now. That’s why I have my post-exam ritual though.”

He elbows her gently, a smile on his lips. “I’m sure you did fine. You always kill it.”

She flashes him a grin. “Fingers crossed. How were your morning classes?”

Zuko shrugs. “Fine. I have another class in half an hour so figured I could just chill out here while I wait, get some reading done. The weather’s pretty nice today.”

Katara leans back on her hand, and even though she really was going to wait before bringing it up again, she is a curious person and can’t help but pry—“Are you really not going to tell me what you’re reading?”

He parts his mouth in surprise at her direct statement, but she’s never been one to back down. She can see the heat rise through his body up to his cheeks, as he startles forward, sputtering, “I—what do you— _what?”_

“Is it something inappropriate? Is that why you’re hiding it?”

If Zuko wasn’t red before, he’s red now.

“Agni. _No,”_ he bristles with a scowl.

He drags his hand down his face before pulling the book behind his back, carefully laying it in his lap. The book is a familiar dark blue canvas, slightly worn over the years but still in pristine condition. She spots a library label at the edge, eyes scanning over the glistening gold words under the plastic cover.

_The Tales of the South Pole._

Katara blinks, body growing still.

She looks up at him incredulously.

“Is that—“

“It’s not a big deal,” he says in a rush, his voice hitching with shame as he averts his gaze. “We were talking about it yesterday, and I decided to see if the library had it after my morning class. I was um— _curious_ , and like you said, I… should be doing more to learn about history from different perspectives—“

“This is one of my favorite books,” she interrupts him, still a bit astonished.

“I know,” he hedges quietly.

“You could have asked me to borrow it.” The words come out of her, but she’s not really sure what she’s saying. It’s almost as if Katara has displaced herself momentarily, watching the moment from a third perspective in what she can only describe as an out-of-body experience.

She doesn’t even care that he didn’t ask her to borrow it.

She’s just—still surprised he’s _reading_ it.

It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours since she brought it up.

He looks shocked at the suggestion. “You have a first edition. There’s no way I’d ask to borrow something that valuable. And—” Zuko falters, licking his lips. “Honestly, I felt embarrassed wanting to read it.”

“But why?”

“Because—this is a big deal to you. And… I’m from the Fire Nation, and I’m still trying to cope with my own culture, so I didn’t want to fuck this up somehow. I feel like I’ve had a history of messing up everything I touch, and _this_ —your culture and traditions and heritage—is important to you. I want it to be important to me too, so I was going to take my time with it. Share it with you when I felt like I had actually learned something, but—” he’s cut off when Katara moves to toss her arms around him, squeezing him tightly.

She can feel him stiffen under her grip, but she doesn’t intend to let go. Her heart is pounding in her chest, and she wonders if he can hear it, that blaring rhythmic thumping like vibrating drums. It’s so loud, she thinks she could hear it even if she were drowning in the ocean. Finally, he relaxes, gently hugging her back, hands splayed across her waist, and they sit like that for what feels like hours though she knows it’s only a few seconds.

She eventually leans away from him, a wide smile on her lips.

“Hey, Zuko,” she says.

“Y-yeah?”

“You have absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about,” she tells him, her voice soft as she lays her hand to his cheek, coaxing his gaze to hers. “Everything you do—it honestly means the world to me. You didn’t have to read it—I literally just suggested it to you last night! But you did. What’s to be embarrassed about?”

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I guess it’s hard to think otherwise. I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“Well, I think it’s really sweet,” she murmurs, eyes flickering over the slope of his nose and the curves of his lips. She feels it in the air, his gaze shifting in tandem, and she has never wanted to kiss Zuko more than she has in this moment.

The Ba Sing Se University bell chimes, vibrating across the campus as the clock strikes four, and Katara startles. The two slowly pull themselves away from each other, and she blinks as a surge of thoughts flood her mind. She tries to shove them away, tries to focus in on the moment.

_Did she just—_

“I need to get to class,” Zuko says, but he doesn’t rush himself, instead pulling her up from the lawn with a grip around her forearm, and helping her wipe the grass off her bag first.

“Yeah,” she says faintly as she throws her bag over her shoulder.

_—want to kiss—_

“I’ll text you when I’m on my way. Make sure to make me a batch of brownies with fire flakes,” he smirks.

Katara automatically scrunches her nose in distaste. “You’re honestly so weird, but a promise is a promise.”

— _Zuko?_

He laughs and waves goodbye as he climbs up the stairs to the university plaza, leaving Katara alone in the middle of the lawn, dazed, confused, and her heart pounding a mile a minute.

A crush, she tells herself.

It’s only a crush.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i said i was only going to post about once a week, but i'm pretty much going to update as soon as i'm content with a chapter. the next one... may take a bit longer than this one haha
> 
> i had some hesitancies about how much i wanted to merge the ATLA storyline into this (by the storyline, i mean the hundred year war) since it's a modern AU, but i think their cultures really define who they are, so i interwove it as part of their deep-rooted history, minus bending. i think it's in zuko's nature to feel guilty for past fire nation crimes (the way he is in book 3 and as fire lord), but there's a huge growth in acknowledging that your country isn't perfect and you're doing your best to learn from their mistakes. history is important!!!!
> 
> the plot in this story is so light, that i wondered if it was right to include it. but i think that's part of the beauty of their relationship, supporting that learning and doing their best to understand what's important to their significant other—which, especially in katara's case, is learning about culture. i didn't go more than that bc, again, this is meant to be a light-hearted modern au haha
> 
> anyway, i hope you enjoyed this bc i'm having a lot of fun writing it! the yearning is on a new level. get it together kids 
> 
> also—spicy brownies are not my cup of tea (or like, any spicy chocolate tbh), but they're a thing. i think they'd also be zuko's thing.


	3. Chapter 3

Katara lives in a studio by herself a couple of blocks in between campus, the Jasmine Dragon, and the hospital.

It’s a tiny little thing with a decent-sized window to fit her air-conditioner unit, a full-size pull-down mattress, and a kitchen the size of a closet. There are barely just enough steps between her bed and the kitchen to fit a divider, a coffee table, and a bookshelf, but aside from that, there’s hardly enough room to call it actual living space. When she needs more storage, she stuffs all of her clothes in the drawers under her bed and calls it a day.

It had been as affordable as she could get when Suki and Sokka had all but decided to move in together after graduation, leaving her (and Zuko) absolutely roommate-less. Zuko had opted for a one-semester sublease since he was planning to move after graduation, and because she hadn’t wanted a new roommate, Katara had settled for an apartment the size of a shoebox.

She figures it could be worse, so she tries not to complain.

Katara’s in a half-daze as she walks home, and it’s as if her body moves on its own accord, stopping by the convenience store, strolling back to her apartment, climbing up the stairs. It’s not until she hits the rooftop door that she realizes she’s two floors past her apartment. She considers retreating back when her thoughts blur with golden eyes flirting across her features, parted lips a hair’s breadth away.

She shoves the rooftop door open.

Fresh air would be nice.

The roof is bare save for a few running centralized air conditioner units. She’s pretty sure the roof is supposed to be off-limits, but that’s never stopped her before.

Katara lets out a heavy sigh as she sets her bags to the ground and drops to her knees, groaning aloud. Her hands drag down her face as she skims through the events from earlier on in the day, narrowing her thoughts on her sudden desire to kiss her best friend.

She can’t want to kiss Zuko.

He’s her _best friend_.

Maybe she’s always been curious, but there were so many reasons as to why she’d stopped that curiosity before it had consumed her.

Namely, her friendship with Zuko.

_How do you even know you’re in love?_

_It’s like your heart is going sparky sparky, boom boom._

Is her heart exploding?

She presses her hand to her chest.

It doesn’t _feel_ like it.

It just feels like she’s… nervous. Unsure.

“What‘s wrong with me?” Katara mutters as she moves to lie on the ground, propping her head against her backpack. She shields her eyes against the late afternoon sun as she peers up at the clouds, a wave of warm haziness hitting her slowly, her grocery bag with brownie mix forgotten under the sky.

She can’t be in love with Zuko. She just can’t.

She can get over this… obstacle. She lets that conviction sit with her under the setting sun, hoping it’ll flood through her body and soul until she stops thinking about her friend’s godforsaken lips.

Time shifts, and she feels herself drifting within a fog.

And then a hand is pressing gently on her shoulder.

“Katara.”

Blearily, she opens one eye and meets a wry smile and an amused gaze. “Looks like brownies are a bust tonight?” A hand lifts up her bag of forgotten brownie mix, but all she can see is how the sky has suddenly shifted a magnetic violet blue.

Katara shoots up from the ground. “What time is it?”

“Only a little after six.” Zuko drops some items beside her as he settles on the ground. She wipes her eyes wearily and then peers at the contents—a six pack of beer, a cardboard box of pizza, a box of pre-made brownies, and her blanket. Without prompting, she grabs her blanket and wraps it around her shoulders. “I came by after my class and couldn’t reach you, so I figured I’d get some food in case you hadn’t eaten. Grabbed some brownies so that your ritual wouldn’t be a _complete_ bust. Luckily when I came back, I remembered you sometimes come up here. Hope you don’t mind that I grabbed your keys to raid your blanket stash.”

Katara groans into her hands. “Sorry. My feet had a mind of their own. I didn’t realize I was so tired.”

Zuko shrugs as he pulls two beers out from the cardboard box and pops the caps off. He shoves one gently into her hands and unceremoniously clinks the bottles together. “Happens when you stay up late for an exam. We can do something different for your ritual today.”

She laughs and thanks him before taking a sip from her bottle. She’s never been an avid fan of beer, so she blanches just a bit after the bitter wheat settles on her tongue.

“Something on your mind?” Zuko asks after a long moment of silence.

_You._

Her heartbeat expedites, cheeks growing flush. She licks her lips and sputters slightly, “No—no. Why do you ask?”

He leans back against his forearms. “You usually don’t come up here unless something’s on your mind.” He shrugs after taking a sip of his beer. “But we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“I’m just stressed with school,” she lies.

“Well, that’s why you have your ritual, isn’t it? To give yourself some time to recuperate. And I brought plenty of alcohol and greasy food to do just that,” he says as he shoves open both the pizza and brownie box.

Katara laughs but squirms uneasily. Still, she moves to grab a slice of pizza and shoves it in her mouth, if only to give her something to do with her hands. “Thanks for bringing food. I would have definitely starved myself. I’m sorry this isn’t the ritual you were probably expecting.”

“Yeah, where are my fire flake brownies? You owe me,” he teases.

“I’ll make some for movie night,” she laughs, shoving his shoulder.

“I’m only joking. This is still way better than anything Sokka would have dragged me to. Plus, it’s nice to hang out with just the two of us, even if we’re not doing anything special.”

“Yeah,” she murmurs softly, tightening her blanket around her shoulders.

It _is_ nice when it’s just the two of them. She’s always savored time spent between her and Zuko. Those moments are special, theirs, _hers_.

She doesn’t want to lose them.

She will though, won’t she? If she falls in love with him?

“Besides,” Zuko says, “Sokka’s hosting movie night soon, so it works out.”

She internally tells herself to snap out of it. She can’t focus on that, not now.

“Who could deny watching _Attack of the Giant Unagi_ again for the 100th time?” Katara snips. “Honestly, how is he not tired of that movie?”

“When we were roommates, he’d force me to watch it with him every time he was bored. Which is to say— _often_. I bet I could recite the movie verbatim if I really tried.”

“I feel the most sorry for Suki. I wonder how often he forces her to watch it.”

“Hey—I lived with him for _three years_. No way Suki can top that. They only just started living together.”

“True. Fine, you get some points for dealing with my brother’s unagi obsession.”

“I don’t even want the points,” Zuko says in disgust. “For how lax Sokka is as a person, his stubbornness and dedication to something when he’s obsessed has always been… surprising.”

“Like his obsession with his boomerang?”

“Like his boomerang,” he affirms with a nod.

“And his hatred with Jet.”

“That too. Although,” Zuko pauses, tilting his head, “if I recall correctly, you hate Jet too, if not more.”

“I hate Jet,” Katara nods vehemently, fiddling with the bottle in her hands. “I wish I had never dated him.”

He looks over at her briefly but doesn’t say anything. She wonders if there’s a question in his gaze, but for that reason she avoids staring at it altogether. He returns to taking a sip of his drink, shaking his head slowly. “The two of you are so alike in some ways, it’s uncanny.”

“Hey! I resent that,” she sniffs.

“Oh, so you’re not stubborn like your life depends on it?” he asks dryly.

“I’m _passionate._ ”

“Right.”

“You’re stubborn too!”

“Passionate,” he parrots back to her, keeping his face blank.

She rolls her eyes and can’t help but smile softly. Zuko is passionate in some ways, hot-headed in others, even domineering at times, but he rarely shows that side to her unless he’s truly, absolutely pissed. He says it’s due to years of therapy and living with his Uncle; otherwise, he admits he’d have more outbursts than he’d like. She’s aware he puts in a tremendous amount of effort to control his emotions around them, always immediately regretting his bursts of anger as soon as it appears.

She nudges him gently with her shoulder. “You _are_ passionate. In the best way.”

His features soften, a smile gracing his lips as he leans back. There’s a lack of conviction in his eyes, but he doesn’t say so, instead refocuses his gaze forward.

“You sure you’re okay?” Zuko murmurs as the sun begins to settle behind the city line. “I’m here if you want to talk.”

Katara blinks, almost feels like crying because of course Zuko can see right through her. “I—“ she stops and bites her lips, lets out a week’s worth of an exhale. “Honestly? I’m confused.”

“About what?”

She lets the silence filter the air as she scrambles for the right words. She doesn’t think they exist, and she’s not even sure what she’s trying to _say._ But of course, her mouth has a kind of its own, and she feels the words burst from within her before she can stop them.

“How do you know you’re in love?” she blurts.

She sucks in her breath, holding it as she waits.

What on earth is she trying to determine? Her heart is pounding so loudly, she can hear it in the deafening silence.

But Zuko is quiet, so eerily quiet that she has to turn her head to check in on whether he’s still awake. He’s staring up at the sky with a furrowed expression across his features and a purse at his lips.

“Do you think you’re in love?” he asks, his raspy voice like a lullaby.

“I—I’m not sure,” she admits. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in love, to be honest. I guess… Sokka and Suki have been up my ass about getting a boyfriend—not that I necessarily want one. But if I had to describe my feelings towards Jet, it was like… infatuation. But what if I’ve fallen in love, and I don’t even know it? What is it supposed to feel like?”

When she turns to peer at Zuko, his eyes have turned to watch her carefully, and she feels immediately engulfed by the depths of it.

She swallows thickly. “Have you been in love?”

He sighs and turns his head back to the sky. A hand lifts to run through his dark hair before settling back at his chest. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “I mean—I’ve fallen in love, and I’ve also fallen out of love. But I don’t know if the way I’ve experienced love is going to tell you if you’re in love or not.”

Katara sucks in a deep breath. “Mai?”

“Mai was my first love, I think. It’s been so long. And maybe I didn’t really love her, maybe it was just being comfortable with what I knew, but I _thought_ I was in love. And when you’re that young and lost, you don’t really know any better.”

“How did you know?”

“At the time—when we got together, we were in high school. I wasn’t… the best version of myself then. I guess who is at that age, right? Mai was really good at making me feel like anger was the right emotion at the time. I felt… justified with the way I channeled my emotions. When you’re not brought up on love, you crave it—in any shape or form. And Mai—she loved me in her own way.” He pauses, struggling to find the right words. “It wasn’t an epiphany or anything. We had been dating for a year, at least, when one day, I looked at her, and thought—I’m happy with her. Or at least, I was… less miserable when she was around. And I felt valued as a person, and I hadn’t felt that way before.”

Zuko pauses, closing his eyes briefly as he considers his thoughts.

Then a snort escapes him. “Is that really love though? Who knows. To sixteen year-old Zuko who didn’t really know love—yeah, I guess it was.”

“Why did y’all break up?”

He sighs. “Because—it was a really unhealthy relationship. We grew to be two different kinds of people who had different needs. I don’t think I was happy with myself, really. Mai was like… a coping mechanism. I realized I was with her because she made me feel less miserable, or maybe she made my misery worth it. But I didn’t want to be miserable at all.

“By the time our relationship fizzled out, I was a freshman in college, I think? And I had started to make friends that were making me feel good about myself, and I was spending a lot more time with Uncle. Then one day, I looked at her and the way we interacted with each other and thought—I’m unhappy.”

“Do you think you still love her?”

Zuko huffs, sits up and runs his hand along his jaw. He leans to the side and grabs his beer and takes a long drag from the bottle. Something about the expression on his face feels wry and in disbelief, but he doesn’t say anything in particular that aligns with the sentiment.

“No, no. Definitely not.” He turns his gaze towards her, tilting his head. She shrinks under his scrutiny, curls into her blanket as if it can act as a safe haven. “Do you think I still love her?”

“No,” she says.

“Then why ask?”

“Because I’m—” Katara stops before she says anything she’ll regret, her voice falling flat as she searches for the right word, “—curious.”

He flicks her nose. “Curiosity killed the cat.”

“But satisfaction brought it back,” she responds smugly, shoving his hand away.

A brow lifts. “Are you satisfied with this answer?”

“Debatable,” she hums. “I’m not _un_ satisfied.”

He snorts, but turns his gaze away as he presses his lips together. “I know I said Mai was my first love. But I was, what? Sixteen? Seventeen maybe when I had that realization? At the time, I thought that was love. You asked me how I knew I was in love. Back then, it was a feeling. But even then, I don’t know if it was the right feeling. She was special to me, but sometimes I think about what love feels like now, and—” he stops abruptly and then fumbles with the bottle of beer in his hands.

But Katara has always been a curious person. “ _Now?_ ” she presses.

“Um—What I _think_ it feels like,” he says, half-haphazardly, sputtering slightly. “It—What I meant to say is… I—I think I _should_ have found joy in seeing her happy. But instead, I saw her as a method to… make me less miserable. In the end… in the end, we were wrong for each other. At least—at the time.” Zuko sighs heavily. “Like I said, I don’t know if the way I’ve experienced love is going to tell you if you’re in love or not. I don’t think anyone can tell you how you feel except for you.”

 _Tell that to Sokka and Suki_ , she can’t help but think.

But Katara only hums softly under her breath, trying to get a grasp of her heart and what it’s trying to tell her. She wishes she could read it as easily as her brother and her best friend seem to be able to.

What if she was in love with Zuko? What would she even do with that information?

She can only wonder.

“Do you feel—” Zuko hedges carefully, “—less confused?”

“I…” Katara scrunches her face. She sits up and curls her arms around her knees, cradling her chin between her legs. She stays there as she shifts through her thoughts, is grateful for how Zuko can patiently wait in silence as she navigates the words and emotions deep within her. She considers Zuko’s words, carefully pulls them apart to decipher them into her own words, what love means— _meant_ —to him when he often felt like he didn’t have love at all. It’s different, she thinks, to the way she feels now, comfortable and at ease with a person who makes himself available for her, whenever and wherever. She wishes it was as easy as labeling it with a word like love. “I don’t know.”

He nudges her with a smile. “Hey, it’s okay. Don’t listen to whatever Sokka and Suki are saying. It’s probably all garbage anyway. Your feelings are yours. No one else can tell you what that means.”

Katara smiles. Leave it to Zuko to always know what to say to make her feel better. “I do know that my relationship with Jet was definitely not love. Not even close.”

“Yeah, well—Jet was… interesting,” Zuko says quietly. “Not my favorite person.”

“You never did tell me why you didn’t like him.”

He shrugs vaguely. “And I never said I didn’t like him.”

“‘Not my favorite person’ might as well mean the same thing,” she points out. “And you insinuated. Back when we were dating. But you never said why.”

She has an idea, but they’ve never talked about it.

He huffs a laugh. “You made assumptions.”

Katara picks at the label on her beer bottle. He’s deflecting, but she doesn’t want to press it. He seems uncomfortable, and she’s always hated making him uncomfortable.

Zuko clears his throat and grabs the remaining pack of beer bottles, dropping it in front of her. “Now, you’re not going to make me drink all of these by myself, are you?”

She blanches, gives into his change of topic. “Couldn’t you have gotten liquor? Wine? _Anything else?_ ”

“I got you pizza and brownies. Stop complaining.”

“I’m not complaining, it’s just—”

Zuko snaps open a new bottle for her and tosses her empty one in a bag. The hiss of the beer cap silences her words, and he raises a brow as he patiently waits for her to take the bottle from his hand. “Are you going to drink with me?” He pauses, hesitating. “ _Only_ if you want to. I don’t want to pressure you.”

She snatches the bottle. “ _Only_ because it’s you, and because you brought me pizza and brownies, and you put up with my pestering questions about your love life.”

He laughs. “Next time, I’ll get wine since you prefer it so much.”

“I would appreciate that,” she huffs as she takes a sip of her drink. She leans forward, tilting her head gently as she catches Zuko’s eyes. “But really—thank you, Zuko. For everything.”

Zuko rubs the back of his neck, flushing. “I—I didn’t do anything.”

She laughs gently. “Just for—listening. And being there for me. And bringing me food and drinks when you know I’m feeling down. I really appreciate it.”

“Any time, Katara. Any time,” he murmurs softly.

She clinks her bottle against his.

“Cheers.”

This comfortable, easy atmosphere of theirs—she knows for a fact she’s never felt this way with anyone else, least of all with Jet. Instead, she’ll always remember the aftermath, how in each moment of that relationship, the pivotal points of that tumultuous journey all led to Zuko as her pillar of support—never pushing her for more than she could offer, never making her feel less than she was, never taking her choices away from her.

Maybe he’s always made her happy. Maybe it was supposed to be him from the very start.

Maybe it would have been him, if she’d never met Jet.

* * *

Jet happens in the spring semester of her freshman year, after Zuko and her find themselves on more solid footing. She considers him a friend, though maybe she wouldn’t consider him her best friend. Not yet.

Still, they study together occasionally, and he makes the effort to chat with her and take her home if she stays late at the Jasmine Dragon. She learns to lean on him for chem advice because he gets it, and she… sorta does. Sometimes they’ll grab food together, but more often than not, their outings usually involve Sokka or Katara’s new friend Suki from class or all four of them. If they’re all feeling very adventurous, they’ll invite friends from their clubs, and it’s fun and refreshing and _new._

She’s okay with that. She enjoys the way her friendship with Zuko has evolved, and they settle into this comfortable routine that is inherently _theirs._

But Zuko and Katara are friends, and only friends.

So when Jet enters the equation, it’s like everything bends over backwards to fit him into her life.

Or so she tells herself and anyone else who will listen.

Katara doesn’t attend parties often—if ever, so she chalks it up to fate when her pre-med club colleagues drag her out to an apartment for a stranger’s birthday, the dim lights flickering across her features as she watches them disappear into the halls, the alcohol-slick wooden floor sticking to the bottom of her soles like glue. Somewhere along the way, she’s thrust a drink the color of watermelon syrup and a smell strongly like paint-thinner. She cringes for a split second, and then—

Their eyes meet in the darkness, and she’s— _smitten_.

All her friends tell her he’s bad news.

“I hate him,” Sokka says, seething after he meets Jet for the first time. She knows Sokka wouldn’t be appeased with any of her boyfriends either way, so she only rolls her eyes at his judgment. “There’s something about him! He’s fishy. I don’t trust him. Zuko doesn’t like him either. Zuko, tell her!”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion,” Katara hums.

She’s curious about Zuko’s thoughts though, but doesn’t ask, just watches as he shrugs and cleans off their table at the Jasmine Dragon. He catches her gaze, and he comments, “Don’t listen to Sokka. I’m only here to serve you tea,” before he heads back behind the counter.

Suki is her new friend from gen history, and even though they’ve only known each other briefly, it feels like they’ve been friends forever. But she takes one look at Jet when he picks her up after class and grimaces. “I don’t want to step out of line,” she says when Katara raises an eyebrow warily. “But be careful.”

“I’m always careful,” she sniffs.

She’s not.

Her rose-tinted glasses fall off slowly, but they take their sweet time drifting off the bridge of her nose.

It’s why she still defends him, even though a small inkling inside of her tells her that she shouldn’t. That her friends are right.

It’s what she’s thinking, anyway, when the four of them settle at a large, round table inside the Golden Bear Dim Sum. Zuko sits at the edge, more familiar with the cuisine than the siblings and Suki, and ready to call out the dishes as the carts swing by.

Katara watches as Zuko stops a lady, his eyes peering into her cart as she lifts the lid of each basket. Across the table, she can hear Sokka’s non-stop chatter to Suki about La knows what, but her gaze focuses only on Zuko as he turns around. “No one’s allergic to anything, right?”

“Nah,” Sokka says before he plows right back into his conversation.

“Can we get siu mai, har gau, and the shrimp cheung fun, please? That’s it for this cart,” Zuko says as he hands the lady a slip of paper. With a pair of tongs, the waitress places down two platters of what look like different sorts of dumplings and a plate of what Katara thinks is steamed noodles, then asks him something in a language she can’t decipher. He nods, and she flags another waiter. They set down a steaming kettle of tea and four teacups.

Sokka immediately dives for the food, and Katara suspiciously watches as he generously places dumplings onto Suki’s plate. She makes an internal note, but she doesn’t say anything, instead turns to Zuko with a tilt of her head. “That’s not Earth Kingdom, is it?”

“What?” he asks, grabbing his chopsticks and rolling the kettle his way to pour the tea out.

“What you just spoke with the waitress.”

Zuko pauses for a second, blinking. Then places a teacup at her side as he considers this thoughtfully. “It’s a language of the Earth Kingdom, from the south, which is where dim sum originates from. My uh—Uncle’s obsessed with the cuisine. We used to travel out that way when I was younger, before he opened up the Jasmine Dragon. I don’t know it... fluently—or even conversationally, but I know enough to order dim sum.”

Katara scrunches her face a bit in confusion. “Did you travel all the way to the south of the Earth Kingdom because he liked dim sum?”

“Dim sum is a tea food,” Zuko explains. “At least—originally. Uncle did all this research on the different teahouses in the Earth Kingdom before opening up his own, so we used to travel a lot.” He pauses, clearing his throat as he takes in her curiosity. “Do you, uh—know what these dishes are?”

She stares at them with concentration “I know they’re a form of dumplings.”

Amusement flickers across his face as Zuko smiles. He points his chopsticks to what looks like dumplings in the shape of a cylindrical wrapper, topped with the vivid color of chopped carrots. “This is siu mai.” He picks it up and puts one on her plate. “It’s usually a dumpling made of ground pork, shrimp, and mushrooms.” He points to the other dumplings and puts one on her plate. “Har gau. Shrimp dumplings.” Then does the same to the rice roll. “Cheung fun. This one’s shrimp, but it’s a rice noodle roll.”

Katara doesn’t hesitate when he encourages her to eat, and a bite of the food feels like heaven in her mouth. She moans in delight. “It’s so good,” she says in between a bite, eyes fluttering furiously at the tiny little dumpling.

“Drink your tea, and swallow your food. There’s plenty to go around,” he laughs as he flags another moving cart. She doesn’t know what he plans to order, but she’ll trust him with all her food choices from now on.

A clearing of the throat makes her pause mid-bite and look up.

“Katara,” her brother says, straightening his spine. “Now that we’ve had a little bit of food in our stomachs, it’s time to kick off the purpose of this weekend brunch.”

She swallows, raising a brow. “The purpose wasn’t just to hang out?”

“ _No,_ ” he scowls, crossing his arms. “We are formally here today as an _intervention_ —Operation Jet is the Worst. OJITW.”

“An _intervention?_ ” She turns to glare at Suki and Zuko. “I expected this from Sokka, but I can’t believe you two would betray me like this! Dragging me out here for brunch just to convince me to break up with my boyfriend? That’s low.”

Both of Zuko’s hands raise up. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not a part of this.”

“Zuko automatically backs up my opinion,” Sokka retorts.

“Hey— _don’t_ drag me into this, or I’ll stop ordering you food,” Zuko scowls with a furrowed brow. “I have no opinion on Katara’s love life.”

“What’s the point of having you as a roommate if you’re not on my side?” Sokka grumbles under his breath. “Fine. Zuko’s here as our food connoisseur.”

Her gaze turns to Suki with an expectant look. “What about you?”

Suki shrugs, a tad sheepish but not entirely. “Look, I agree with Sokka. Maybe an intervention is a strong word, but—Jet’s bad news. And for the record, I didn’t know your brother was going to do this either,” she says, narrowing her eyes at him. “This _was_ just brunch.”

“Fine. I hear you, and I believe you. We’ll leave it at that because I’m _not_ spending this time listening to y’all complain about my boyfriend,” she says, stabbing her dumpling and shoving it into her mouth.

Sokka doesn’t hear her, or maybe he does (she _knows_ he does), but he chooses not to listen, and she gets stuck listening to him explain why Katara should break up with Jet in what feels like a three point persuasive essay that she tunes out half-way through. Suki chimes in every so often, and Zuko, true to his word, has no opinion, merely sits quietly at the table and only speaks when ordering more food. Both of her friends make small attempts to change the conversation multiple times, but Sokka steamrolls right over them.

Suki mouths an apology from across the table.

Zuko leans back in his chair with a weary sigh, giving her a defeated look as if to say, _sorry, I tried_.

Katara nods sympathetically and mouths a thank you. She knows her brother. When he gets into a specific mood and is utterly convinced of his beliefs, it’s hard to derail him, and so she doesn’t even try. What can she say—they’re both stubborn in their own ways.

He’s exhausting, but—he’s her brother, and she knows he does it out of love and concern. So she lets him have at it.

Sometimes Sokka and Suki will say something that she knows in her heart is true, and _that feeling_ comes back, the one that makes her doubt her decision to defend Jet, but she can’t _help_ it when everyone is berating her. It simply wants to make her prove them wrong.

Jet’s a good guy.

Right?

Half-way through Sokka’s garble, her gaze drifts around the restaurant, glazing over a dessert cart that shelves a variety of colors from pastel green to snow white to vivid yellow. At this point, they’ve eaten their fill of dim sum, but her eyes land on a trio of golden tarts. For a second, she considers flagging the waitress down and grabbing a plate, but settles on picking at the food left on the table instead.

Katara turns to Zuko, who looks as if his headspace is easily anywhere but here. A lone siu mai sits on his plate, and she can’t help but eye it. He blinks down at her and without a word, picks up the dumpling with his chopsticks and places it on her plate.

Her eyes widen. She looks up at him with uncertainty.

“Take it,” he murmurs. “Who knows how long we’ll have to sit here listening to him?”

She snickers and thanks him before popping the precious dumpling into her mouth. Even if she has to listen to Sokka spout nonsense, at least she was introduced to wonderful food in the process.

After she swallows, she nudges Zuko and whispers, “Do you think he’s really that bad?”

“Sokka? He’s terrible,” Zuko snorts. “Certainly not meant to be in debate. He can’t even tell we’re not paying attention.”

“No, Jet.”

His good brow lifts as he looks down at her, lips pursing together in a thin line as his eyes search hers. “I think… if he makes you happy, then that’s all that matters.”

“Do _you_ have an opinion on him?”

He grimaces. “I’m not here to share my opinion on him.”

“So you do.”

Zuko’s quiet, but she can still hear her brother and the busy chatter of the restaurant behind her. She considers pressing him, but stops when he opens his mouth, “It’s not my place to intervene in your dating life.”

Discomfort settles in her stomach, and Katara can’t help but frown.

“You don’t like him,” she says.

“I never said that.”

“But you implied it,” she insists.

“You’re assuming.”

Is she? Why does it feel like Zuko has more to say than he lets on?

His features soften. “Katara, if you’re happy, that’s all that matters. It doesn’t matter what the rest of us think.”

Katara nods tightly, but doesn’t respond. Is she happy though? She’s not quite sure. _That feeling_ , she just can’t get rid of that feeling.

Eventually, they’re able to derail the conversation, and Zuko pays the tab before anyone can stop him.

On the way home, they talk about anything but Jet, and she’s thankful to finally have a breather.

Zuko drops them off one-by-one—Sokka off at intramural soccer practice, Suki off at her apartment—before taking Katara to her dorm last. Before she exits his car, he stops her.

She turns back to him curiously.

He hesitates, then pulls a white styrofoam box from within his coat and hands it to her. Surprise surges through her body. How he had managed to hide it there is beyond her. “This is for you. You looked like you were eyeing it at the restaurant, and I figured this way, Sokka couldn’t devour it all.”

The box is light in her hand, and an aroma of butter and sugar inevitably kicks its way to her nose. She whiffs it in and can’t help the contented sigh that escapes from within her. “Can I open it?”

The corner of his lips twitch, amusement flickering in the golden haze of his eyes. “I got it for you, so yes.”

Her thumb drifts over the lid of the box as she lifts it open. Three little golden tarts sit inside the box, each one wrapped in parchment paper. A flaky puff pastry encrusts what looks like creamy custard, and the smell has her mouth watering. “Are these…”

“Egg tarts. Have you had them before?”

She shakes her head. “I’ve seen them around before though.”

“They’re best warm, so pop them in the toaster oven for a few minutes before you eat them.”

Katara looks up, and can’t help this overwhelming rush of gratitude flows through her. She swallows thickly. “Thanks, Zuko. This is… too kind.”

He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly before flashing her a grin. “They’re just egg tarts. Take this as an apology for what you had to go through at the restaurant.” He grimaces. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t stop your brother.”

She laughs. “That’s okay. You tried. Sometimes, Sokka just has to get it out of his system, and it wasn’t worth fighting with him.”

Zuko smiles, and she can’t help but feel warm. “Enjoy the egg tarts. And…” he pauses, tilting his head, his voice dropping softly, “don’t let what Sokka and Suki say get to you, okay? As long as Jet treats you well, and you’re happy.”

Something bubbles in her chest at his words, like her breath is being pulled right out of her lungs. She smiles weakly and nods as she bids him goodbye.

Because that’s the big question, isn’t it? If she’s happy.

Is she happy?

* * *

Ultimately, they break up in under three months at a party, and their breakup is a mess—for more reasons than she can count on both hands.

It’s a Friday night. Early March. Fucking cold as hell.

And Katara’s got her head buried in between her knees, arms wrapped around her legs, a long, frazzled sigh escaping her lips. The sound of the Ba Sing Se River drifts like a lullaby beside her, soft and soothing, as if it knows its exact course of direction. She wishes she knew her own course, but now she simply feels lost and confused and _angry_.

She had left the party in a hurry after giving Jet exactly what he had deserved—a good slap across the face and a stomp on his feet. She huffs. He had deserved it and more. Suki had attempted to catch her, but the whole night was such a whirlwind, that she just—couldn’t.

Can’t.

_“It’s because of that Fire Nation prick, isn’t it?”_

_“Are you serious? You’re sleeping with other people, and you think I’m breaking up with you because of Zuko? Fuck you, Jet,” she hisses, pulling her arm from his tight grip. “Don’t touch me. Don’t come near me. In fact, don’t ever talk to me again.”_

_Jet laughs, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Babe, come on. There’s no way you could be ‘just friends.’”_

_“We’re just friends.”_

_“He’s from the Fire Nation. How could you be friends with him?” Jet snorts incredulously, narrowing his eyes. “He’s hot, so I’d get it if you wanted to tap that. I mean, I would. But his people fucked with ours—“_

_“Are you saying we can’t be friends because of something that happened a thousand years ago?”_

_“—They should go back to where they came from, and fucking stay there.”_

_Katara takes a step back and blinks at him in disbelief. “What did you say?”_

_He exhales deeply through his nose. “He’s Fire Nation, Katara.”_

_“That doesn’t make him or his uncle a bad person,” she says stonily. “Nor does that give you an excuse to be a dick to him off the bat just because he’s from the Fire Nation.”_

_He narrows his eyes. “Fine. Don’t listen to me. I thought you understood me—obviously we were never on the same page. But they’re Fire Nation scum, mark my words. That scar he has is probably because he deserved it.”_

_Blinding red light fills her line of sight, and the next thing she knows, there’s a harsh imprint of her hand across his cheek. “That’s for Zuko and his uncle.” And then she stomps on his foot with the point of her heel, and seethes, “And_ that’s _for cheating on me.”_

Katara closes her eyes, takes in a deep breath that fills the depths of her lungs before slowly letting it out again in a frosty white puff of cloud. She’d attended the party on short notice, convinced by Suki to celebrate the end of a rough week by changing into a skirt and a top that was _far_ too cropped to be out and about in the beginning of March. She hadn’t known her ex-boyfriend would be in the middle of having sex in a closet at said party.

Gods, she is just so _stupid_.

A shiver runs down her spine, as she huddles deeper into her thin denim jacket. The damn thing is hardly enough warmth on a crisp winter night, but the idea of going home settles uncomfortably within her. She doesn’t want to see her roommate. And gods forbid she contact Suki or Sokka or _anyone–_ she’d shut her phone off as soon as she stormed out of the apartment. The last thing she needs right now is an _I told you so_.

With a curve of her fingers, she peels off her heels and places them beside her at the base of the stairs, eyes glazing over the rocking gondola docked at the pier. In the distance, she can hear the hushed murmurs and late-night chatter of university students out and about on a late Friday night, can hear the low rumble of cars as they pave through the streets, but decisively chooses to center herself through the water’s calmness.

It’s Zuko who finds her fifteen minutes later, because of course— _of course—_ it is.

She’s not even sure how to face him after all… that.

When he hits the bottom of the stairs, he stands for a split moment in front of her with gentle concern in his golden eyes. He doesn’t say a word though, and she’s grateful. Instead, she watches as Zuko slips out of his coat and drapes it over her shoulder before crouching in front of her. “You’ll catch a cold,” he murmurs.

“It’s too cold for you to give me your coat,” she huffs, but she doesn’t return it.

Zuko cracks a smile, and simply secures the coat more tightly around her shoulders. “Give me your hands.”

“Why?” she says warily.

He raises a brow, and she sighs in defeat, opening up her palms.

A white paper bag with billowing steam is gently placed down. The smell of fresh buns engulfs her, and immediately, her stomach grumbles, a reminder that she had only scarfed a granola bar before heading out for the night.

“Eat,” he says kindly. “There was a street cart down the road, so I grabbed it from there.”

Tears spring to the corners of her eyes. She holds her gaze down, afraid Zuko will take notice and assume it’s for her bastard ex-boyfriend, but really it’s because of his unexpected kindness, and how terribly wrong her ex-boyfriend is to treat him like vermin.

But if Zuko notices, he doesn’t say anything. Only sits beside her at the base of the stairs as she unwraps the steamed bun and takes a bite.

Warm, sweet red bean filling oozes from inside, and it feels like snuggling deep into a blanket on a rainy day. She sighs in delight.

Silence sits comfortably between them, and she thinks that he’ll press her for information after she’s done eating, but he only leans back on his arms and closes his eyes. Katara doesn’t question it though. She’s not sure if she’s ready to talk, if she even wants to—because how can she address what Jet said about him? _How_?—so she welcomes the peace that fills the space around them instead.

Eventually, he asks her if she wants to go home.

She stares at him. “You’re not going to ask?”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Her head shakes.

Zuko shrugs. “Then, no. I only came to make sure you were okay.”

“How’d you know I was here?”

He rubs the back of his head briefly, as a light flush spreads across his cheeks. “I may have driven around for a bit when Suki texted. I was… worried. We all were.”

She looks down and frowns. “I’m sorry for worrying you all.”

His features soften. “Don’t be.” His hand moves up to run through his hair. “Come on. Let me take you home.”

She nods and takes his hand when he offers it.

She can’t help but think how thankful she is to have a friend like Zuko in her life, how easily he offers himself as a source of strength and a pillar of support. She swears, then, that she’ll never do anything to shatter it.

* * *

Even though Katara’s normal post-exam rituals are often more than rooftop conversations, she finds an intimate satisfaction in Zuko’s presence alone, that it doesn’t matter if they’ve foregone her usual ritual of movies and homemade brownies. Eventually, they make it back into her apartment when darkness falls, and the only light left in the sky is the crescent moon.

Zuko sticks around for a few jokes and a couple rounds of card games and midnight chatter.

She feels— _comfortable_.

Happy.

Now it’s just the two of them on her pull-down bed, and in the coolness of the autumn weather, she can feel the warmth radiating off his skin across her bedsheets. They’re staring up at her ceiling, slightly buzzed, eyes flickering over the stucco scattered across the wall like painted stars. The air hangs like a cozy blanket over her, and she feels herself drifting off, slowly.

A thought lingers in the back of her mind, Jet’s burning hatred and resentment towards the Fire Nation, Zuko’s earnest feelings regarding his history class and his nationality, how he’s always steadfastly avoided the topic of Jet altogether. Like a puzzle, she connects the pieces together and…

She hadn’t brought it up before, had always wanted to refrain from encouraging the deprecating beast that she knew resided in the back of his mind, but...

“Are you still awake?” she murmurs after a beat.

“Yeah,” he hums, his voice faint in the quiet.

Katara turns to shift herself so that she’s facing him. He keeps his eyes peered to the ceiling, but she can feel his acknowledgement in the words left unsaid. “I have something to ask you. Will you answer honestly?”

A wry smile graces his lips. “That’s a trap if I ever did hear one. Depends on the question. What is it?”

A beat sits between them as Katara tries to gather her words. Then,

“When Jet and I broke up… When I _dumped_ him,” she repeats, correcting herself, “he said something really terrible. About… you. I never knew how to bring it up because it just—never... felt worth bringing up. I felt… ashamed that I had even dated him.”

He’s silent for a split moment.

“Let me guess,” he says finally, voice taking on an edge. “He called me Fire Nation scum.”

She sucks in her breath. “Has he… done that before? To you?”

Zuko sits up, dragging both his hands through his hair. A ragged sigh escapes his lips. It looks almost as if he’ll let a lie slip from between his lips before his gaze drifts to his hands. Hesitation sits in the way he locks his jaws before he admits, “Yeah. He has.”

Katara sits up with him, curling the blanket along her lap. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

Uncertainty crosses his features, as he rubs the back of his neck. “Because—I… I mean, is he so wrong?”

Katara immediately opens her mouth to retort, but he shoots her a look before she can. She clamps her mouth shut.

“Before you interrupt me—let me just… explain. You know how I feel about my heritage. I’m ashamed to say it took me… a while to confront my own history. Jet was like… almost like a wake-up call. I mean, I had already been _trying_ , but—” Zuko pauses, golden eyes glazing over as he runs his hand across the line of his jaw, pursing his lips. “Jet isn’t my favorite person, by all means, but we’d been… friendly—before he found out I was from the Fire Nation.”

Surprise flutters through her. “You guys were friends?”

“Friends… that’s a strong word. I met him before BU, and I guess he saw the outcast in me and thought we had… a kindred spirit. Of sorts. We didn’t have much in common. I guess it was… the scar that signaled that I was an outcast,” he laughs dryly, but the humor doesn’t reach his eyes.

Anger simmers through her as she recalls the way Jet had leveraged Zuko’s scar against him. At the time, she hadn’t known the story behind it, but now that she does… The feeling only amplifies ten-fold.

“Anyway, when he found out, he exploded in our tea shop. I hadn’t known how much he hated people from the Fire Nation, but it all came tumbling out. Called my uncle and me a lot of slurs. It was the first time someone had blatantly told me that the Fire Nation had truly wronged people. At first I was pissed, but the more I sat on it, the more I realized he was right in a way. The Fire Nation did fuck up. They did terrible things, Katara. Maybe that’s not on me, but I have a responsibility to acknowledge it and learn from it.”

He exhales deeply before draping his arm over his knee, his gaze turning outwards towards her window.

“Maybe that’s why…” Disquiet furrows between his brow. His voice drops to a murmur in the darkness, and Katara feels this strong urge to reach over and grab his hand. But he looks lost in thought, and she holds in that desire to touch him. “Scum felt… fitting.”

“You are _not_ scum,” she can’t help but hiss vehemently, grabbing his hand anyway and drawing his gaze away from the window. “He doesn’t have the right to say that about you, especially not on the basis that you’re from the Fire Nation. Do you hear me, Zuko? No one is allowed to treat you like that.”

There’s an unsettled expression that falls on his face. He licks his lips and nods slowly, but doesn’t seem entirely convinced. He says quietly, “Jet was the first person to give me a reality check. Do I forgive him for harassing us, especially my uncle? Not really. But… dating you? You were so smitten with him. I just wanted you to be happy, and you looked like you were. Who was I to ruin that for you? It’d been years since Jet and I had interacted—what if he had changed, become better? I know I have. If someone judged me based on what they knew from my past, I’d never get anywhere. I didn’t want to do that to someone else.

“I guess that’s why… I never said anything.” He looks up at her earnestly. “I never want to make your choices for you, Katara. I don’t want to manipulate them or make you do anything you don’t want to do. And I didn’t want to let any of my emotions affect your relationship with Jet if he made you happy.”

Bitterness consumes her in a deafening way, and her grip on his hand tightens. He waits patiently as she collects her response, but all she can think is how angry she feels on Zuko’s behalf, and yet… a part of her, a small part of her, is frustrated that he had tried keeping it from her at all. “You should have trusted me to still make my own decisions. How could I date him knowing he treated you and your uncle like that? He hated you simply because of where you came from, and you… you let me date him. I deserved to know.”

He considers her carefully. “Why are you telling me this now? You’ve obviously known this since your breakup with him.”

“I thought about telling you that night, but you didn’t ask, and I realized… it wasn’t worth bringing up. How was repeating what Jet said going to make anything better? It wasn’t. And I wasn’t going to say anything ever, but all this talk about our relationships brought the memory back up and...” she trails off, letting go of his hand and curling her arms around her knees as she pulls them up to her chest.

She wishes she could tell him what’s really on her mind, her struggles with what love means but specifically what it means for _them_ , and whatever _this_ is. How she wants to protect him with her life. How she wants to be honest with him, about everything, and wants the same in return. How he makes her happy, but she doesn’t want him to make her happy because she’s nervous everything will change, and it’s the one part of her life she’s not willing to let go.

“You know you can talk to me about anything,” Katara says finally. “If you want.”

“And I do. This is… one of those things that happened so long ago, and… I guess I don’t really talk about it with anyone.”

“It just sometimes feels like… you’re willing to give up the world to help me,” she says quietly, a truth within a truth but not all of it. “I want to do the same.”

“Katara,” he says, gently taking a hold of her hand and squeezing tight. “You do just enough for me. I promise.”

Katara isn’t sure she really agrees, but she doesn’t argue with him, lets his words sit between them like a hug before plowing forward, “And for the record—I think it’s wonderful that you’re trying to learn and hold yourself accountable. You know how I feel about this. But Jet was also so incredibly wrong. You’re not scum. You’re not even close. You’re the best person I know. What he said is so fucked up—I’ll never forgive him, and I’ll never regret the slap that I gave him either.”

“You slapped him for _me_?” he asks half in amusement, half in awe. “I thought it was because he cheated on you?”

“ _That_ earned him a heel dig in the foot,” she sniffs. “He deserved it. I won’t repeat what he said, but—he deserved it.”

Zuko lets out a small chuckle under his breath, and she feels herself relax a bit as the tension in the air eases.

“For what it’s worth,” he says after a moment, “I’m sorry. For not telling you. You’re right, I should have told you because you deserved to know. And I should have trusted you to make your own decisions.”

She looks at him, and he pats the space beside him.

“Come here,” he says softly.

Her heart flutters.

She can’t help it.

She crawls over to him and curls up against his chest as his arms wrap around her. She can hear his heartbeat stutter against her ear. He presses his chin against her hair.

“Are we okay?” he murmurs.

“I don’t want to lose you,” she whispers suddenly, that heartache in her chest breaking in the tone of her voice.

There’s a sense of confusion in his ember eyes when he turns his head to look at her, but he doesn’t question it, and for that, she’s thankful.

“You won’t,” he promises. “You couldn’t.”

But how can he uphold a promise if he doesn’t know what the future will hold?

Still, she relishes in the now, this special friendship she has with him, and will do so for however long she has it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> right. well, first thing’s first. i apologize for going mia when i originally said this would be 5-6 chapters, and it was all pretty much done! it was… but then i kept revisiting this chapter over and over again because something about it didn’t sit right with me. so i let it sit until the right inspiration hit. and it did—in the form of dim sum haha
> 
> growing up, my family and i traditionally celebrated all of our holidays with dim sum for brunch. it’s been a bit different this year, obviously. i recently passed by the restaurant we usually go to, and i was hit with this nostalgic desire. it sparked inspiration for me to revisit this chapter; food has always been my source of comfort, and that feeling was able to transpire into this chapter.
> 
> i really wanted to keep this fic very lighthearted and fluffy, and stay away from making this too socially political. but no matter what i wrote, it sat there, demanding to be written. sometimes i get reminded that art, in all its forms, is political, and atla is a very politically drawn out plot. skirting it felt wrong, and i want to give everyone justice in the depths of their character.
> 
> anyway. this is a drawn out author’s note. i want to thank everyone for taking their time to read this, for those who kudos’d and/or bookmarked it, for those who left comments—i’m sorry if i didn’t respond. i read them all & they give me life :’) i appreciate everyone’s love. this story will unfold as i’m ready, but i promise to complete it no matter how long it takes! i hope this extra long chapter makes up for the wait.
> 
> sending lots of love.


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